Gradual Love
by Leia
Summary: *In Progress* Post-DB, Pre-DBZ. Goku agreed to marry ChiChi without knowing anything about marriage, or love. This story will detail the journey of Goku's feelings for ChiChi. Expect several bumps and hitches on the way - theirs is a complicated tale ...
1. First Step

Disclaimer: I do not own DB/Z/GT. . . . But what would happen if I didn't put that? Does someone get paid to go through each and every chapter/story on this site and check for disclaimers? Man, I want that job! Imagine, 60-thousand a year to go "Yep, disclaimer .... yep, disclaimer ... ye -- Oops! This story doesn't have one! Let's sue the already-broke college/high school author!" Eesh! 

A/N: Don't expect this to be a very deep or particularly challenging story. It's just something that's been floating around in my head for a while, since I've been wanting to write a Goku/ChiChi story. 

I'm a bit of a cynic when it comes to their relationship. I don't believe that Goku was in love with her when they married. It was too soon. I don't even know if he was when Gohan was conceived (which wasn't soon after the wedding, but still!). However, I do think he was in love with her by the time Radditsu came around - long before, actually. 

I think, in Goku's case, loving ChiChi came slowly - almost a learning experience. It must be hard for a guy who knows nothing about women or marriage, to go from living on his own to supporting a family. Most people don't give him enough credit - that, or they give him too much and assume he fit right in immediately. I don't go either way. 

Well, like I said, this is just a theory. And even if you don't agree with it, this story's still a pretty easy read, so it won't affect anything if you don't like my theory. Just make sure you let me know what you think, because, well, I like knowing! 

                Gradual Love

**Chapter One:  First Step**

The incredible battle was over.  A young man had defeated Daimaou Piccolo's son, though had not destroyed him, and the Earth was finally at peace.  This same man, Son Goku, now named the saviour of the planet, sat with his chin in his hands, legs swinging idly over the side of _Kinto'un_, his flying cloud.

"Boy, I've got quite a problem, eh, _Kinto'un_?" Goku muttered, smiling a little as the yellow cloud wriggled in response.  "I'm supposed to marry a girl I barely even remember — and I don't even know what marriage is about!"

Well, no.  Goku knew about marriage, relationships, and everything else now.  What he hadn't learned from Yamucha over the years had been taught to him by his martial arts teacher, Master Rôshi.  A few days prior, the old man had discovered Goku had thought marriage was a type of food -- and had immediately taken matters into his own hands.  The young man's face flushed with embarrassment as he thought of the videos Master Rôshi had forced him to watch.  The things the couples did weren't what bothered him, even though they were naked and stuff ‑‑ it didn't look bad at all . . . but it sure looked _personal_.  He wondered if they knew  a camera was there.  He bet they didn't.  Why would people have sex in front of a camera?

"So I'm supposed to do all that," Goku shrugged, staring up at the sky, squinting at the sliver of a moon that hung high over the horizon.  Someone had wished it back after Master Rôshi destroyed it years ago, and he was glad.  He liked the moon.  It made everything all silvery and pretty, and it helped calm him when he got confused.

Goku got confused a lot, but he didn't mind that — it was ChiChi who was making him upset about it.  He knew she loved him . . . she had told him so herself, several times, and whenever she said it her eyes got all shiny and she smiled a lot.  Goku, on the other hand, didn't know what it meant to be "in love" with somebody.  He loved ChiChi, he supposed, but he also loved Kuririn, Bulma, Yamucha, Master Rôshi, and everybody else just the same.  Well, no — right now, he guessed he loved Kuririn the most.  Kuririn was his best friend, after all.  But ChiChi probably wouldn't like that.

Goku knew there was a difference between his love and ChiChi's, but he wasn't sure — and he didn't want to ask her.  It had made her mad enough to know that he had all but forgotten her, and ChiChi was scary when she was angry.

He remembered her hugging him, after he had defeated Piccolo.  She'd lifted him right off the ground, though she sure didn't look that strong!  It felt kind of nice to have somebody that worried about him — a different kind of nice than when Kuririn or Bulma worried.  Did that make any sense?  Did that mean he _loved _her loved her, like she did him?

"Goku-san, what are you doing up there?" 

Goku jumped in surprise, looking down.  Standing on the ground was ChiChi, her arms folded over her chest accusingly, staring up at him.  She wasn't glaring, which was a good thing, but she was dressed in her nightclothes and slippers, and she had let down her hair for the night.  She looked worried.

"I'm just thinking," Goku replied, "Hang on, I'll come get you," he swooped down with _Kinto'un_ and grabbed ChiChi by the waist, hooking his arm around her and pulling her up next to him.  "There we go.  Now we can talk."

When _Kinto'un_ headed back into the sky, ChiChi shrieked and clung tightly to him, startled.  "Goku-san, not so high!  What if we fall?" she pleaded breathlessly.

"I won't fall," Goku retorted, surprised she would even think that.  He'd had _Kinto'un_ since before he'd met ChiChi the first time, and she hadn't minded riding with him then.  "Why are you scared?"

"I'm not scared," ChiChi huffed indignantly, but she crept closer to him and held onto his arm.  Goku rolled his eyes, wondering if she wasn't faking a little.  Bulma did that when she wanted Yamucha to act all boyfriend-y with her — pretended she was scared or hurt, that is.  He fell for it every time, and it always pleased Bulma.

Hey, maybe that was what ChiChi was trying to do.  Goku shrugged.  "Here, will this make you feel better?" he scooped her up and sat her on his lap, his arms wrapped securely around her waist.  "You can't fall now."

ChiChi made a sound that suggested she was happy, and Goku guessed that had been the right thing to do.  She settled back against him, resting her head against his chest.  "So what were you thinking about, Goku-san?" ChiChi asked, tilting her head a little to look at him.

Goku paused before replying.  Should he tell her how confused and mixed up he was about the wedding?  Should he admit that he had no idea what a husband was supposed to do?  He didn't want her to get mad at him — but then, he guessed it was better off telling her now.

"I was thinking that I don't know what I'm doing," Goku sighed a little, resting his chin on the top of ChiChi's head.  Her hair smelled pleasant — come to think of it, _ChiChi_ smelled really pretty, not just her hair.  And it wasn't fake like Bulma, who used perfumes and all sorts of stuff, because that always made Goku sneeze.  This was a _real_ sort of prettiness.  Goku shook himself, wondering what was going wrong with him.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know what a husband is like," Goku let go of her for a second, running a hand through his unruly hair.  "Grandpa Gohan said that I should be kind to girls, especially my wife if I ever got married.  Kuririn said I'm supposed to kiss you and make sure you're happy and buy you presents.  Yamucha said I'll have to live with you and sleep in the same bed and I can't ever look at another girl again.  Master Rôshi said — well, never mind that," he stopped there, because ChiChi giggled a bit, and he knew she figured the last part out.

Goku frowned.  "But it doesn't make sense.  I'm already kind to girls, but they're not all my wives.  So just because I would kiss you and try to make you happy and sleep with you and buy you presents, is that it?  Yamucha does that for Bulma, but _he_'s not her husband," Goku scratched his head, thinking.  "But he does make her mad all the time, and I don't think they sleep together — not _that_ way, the Master Rôshi way, I mean."

"I don't think that's all a husband is," ChiChi disagreed, patting him reassuringly on the knee.  "But I don't know what one is supposed to do, either.  Same with a wife.  Daddy says I should cook for you and keep the house neat, but there should be more than that."

"Yeah," Goku blew out his breath in frustration.  It seemed ChiChi didn't know any more than he did.  "So we have to learn together, then?"

"I guess so."

They sat in silence for a while, then ChiChi spoke up.  Her voice was different this time — kind of teasing, but also a little embarrassed and shy.  He remembered her talking that way sometimes when they were little.  "Goku-san, have you ever kissed a girl?"

Goku almost made a face, but stopped himself just in time.  "No.  Have you?"

"Kissed a _girl_?!"

"No!" he laughed at the sound of ChiChi's voice.  She sounded completely shocked.  "A boy!  Have you ever kissed a boy?"

ChiChi shook her head.  The movement made her hair tickle Goku's chin, and he moved away from her a little.  "Not really.  I kissed your cheek, but that's it.  I've never kissed anybody on the mouth before."

"Hmm," Goku had walked in on Yamucha and Bulma once, when they had been on the couch.  Yamucha had sat up real fast and wiped his mouth, but Bulma had just laughed and told Goku to watch and learn.  He had, not knowing it would have been rude if they were anyone else — he was just a kid, then.  Bulma liked having an audience, he could tell — but Yamucha kept looking at Goku, like he wanted him to go away.  After that, Goku had gotten the impression that kissing was private.

Maybe kissing was the secret to relationships.  Yamucha and Bulma knew lots of stuff, and Goku wasn't _that_ much younger than they were.  Maybe . . .

"Well, do you wanna' try it?" Goku asked bluntly.  "I mean, I have to kiss you at the wedding.  Your Dad told me.  I don't wanna' mess up and embarrass you."

ChiChi's head swung around, and even in the moonlight Goku could see her cheeks had turned a bright pink colour.  "A-are you sure?" she stammered, her voice all funny, like she was out of breath.

"Sure, I wouldn't've said so if I wasn't," Goku was puzzled at her reaction, but didn't ask.  ChiChi must know more about kissing than he did, since his face wasn't turning red and his voice wasn't getting weird.  Maybe after he'd tried it a few times.

"O-okay," ChiChi smiled nervously, and Goku turned her around in his lap so she was facing him.  She was sitting really close to him by then, so close he was sure he could feel her heart thudding.  "This is so romantic, Goku," ChiChi breathed, getting that starry-eyed look in her eyes again.  "My first kiss!  Floating in the stars, in the moonlight . . ." she sighed happily.

Romantic . . . another word he didn't know.  All Goku knew about that one was that it was something Yamucha wasn't — Bulma had yelled _that_ enough times for him to know it.  He guessed it was a good thing that he was romantic, since ChiChi didn't look mad.  "So, do you know how to do it?" Goku asked.

"I think you just have to do it and figure it out as you go," ChiChi said wisely, nodding like she knew what she was talking about.  "It's not something you can learn from a book.  You just have to _feel_ it."

That didn't help.

"We're supposed to close our eyes, though," ChiChi added, after a few seconds' thought.

"What if I miss?" Goku interjected incredulously.  "If my eyes are closed, I can't see you!  What if I kiss your nose?  Or your chin?  Or your _eye_?"

ChiChi laughed, and she put her arms up around his neck, her shoulders shaking.  "Okay, you keep your eyes open at first, then close them _after_ you kiss me.  Would that be better?"

Goku nodded, feeling a bit better.  He didn't want to look stupid.  "Well," he said, staring at her.

"Well," ChiChi repeated, looking back at him, her black-eyed gaze intent and, in a way, discomfiting.  Goku swallowed hard, suddenly nervous.  What if he didn't do it right?  What if she got mad?  He didn't want to make her mad — ChiChi was a good fighter and a good friend, and he liked her a lot.

"Just do it!" ChiChi cried finally.  "You'll be fine."

Nodding again, Goku put his hand under her chin, tilting her face up like he had seen Yamucha do.  ChiChi closed her eyes expectantly, and Goku leaned in.  _Here goes nothing,_ he thought, and he brushed his lips over hers clumsily, remembering to close his eyes at the last second.

ChiChi made a funny noise and pulled his head closer, pressing their lips together, and it took all Goku's self-restraint not to jerk away in shock.  A shiver ran down his spine and his stomach fluttered suddenly, almost like he was hungry, but he didn't know why.  ChiChi's lips were soft and tasted almost sweet, and he decided kissing wasn't as bad as he'd been afraid it might be.

He pulled away and looked around eagerly, waiting for the rush of knowledge he knew would come.  When it didn't, Goku felt a stab of anger and disappointment.  Wasn't he supposed to be smarter?  Wasn't he supposed to know what to do now?  What had been the point of kissing ChiChi if he was just as confused now as he had been before?  The only thing different was that he felt a little tingly, but that was all.

"Oh my," ChiChi whispered, her fingers on her lips, and her expression was rapturous.  It was even happier than the look she gave him when he agreed to marry her.  "Goku, that was . . . that was _amazing_!"

Amazing?  He hadn't felt anything!  He didn't know anything else!  Why was ChiChi the lucky one?  "Again," Goku demanded.  Maybe the knowledge was just taking turns.  He noticed ChiChi's excited look, and she laced her fingers behind his head, obviously taking advantage of Goku's sudden personality shift.

Goku frowned, closed his eyes, and kissed her again — admittedly more roughly this time, causing ChiChi to squeak in surprise.  When nothing happened again, Goku yanked back, not noticing the hurt that sprang to ChiChi's eyes.  "What's the _matter_ with me?" he yelled, his anger giving way to desperation.  "Why isn't anything happening?"

"What?" ChiChi's gaze flickered over his face in concern, and she touched his cheek lightly.  "What did you think was going to happen?"

"I thought it would make me _smarter_," Goku admitted despairingly, realizing now how silly he sounded.  He lowered his head, expecting ChiChi to laugh at him.  "I thought I'd know more about what a husband does."

"Oh, Goku-san," ChiChi did chuckle, but it was affectionate rather than mocking.  "There's nothing you can do.  We just have to figure it out."

Goku snorted, feeling like an idiot.  "I'm sorry for yelling," he muttered.  "And for not being very good."

A cool hand brushed his bangs back from his forehead, and Goku's head snapped up in surprise.  ChiChi was smiling softly at him, and he thought he had never seen her look so kind.   "It's okay," ChiChi assured him, stroking Goku's face with her fingers.  The sensation was pleasing somehow, in a way Goku didn't understand.  "I'm still learning, too."

He just nodded, when ChiChi reached up and pulled his head down.  Before Goku knew what was happening, ChiChi captured his mouth with her own, locking him into a long kiss.  Her arms came up around his neck, her fingers combing playfully through his hair.  Goku's eyes flew wide open, but before he could protest, the quivering feeling started in his stomach again, and tingles ran from his spine, throughout his body.  He decided he would wait and see what happened.

ChiChi was right . . . once he stopped thinking about it, he _did_ figure out what to do.  Without having to analyze, Goku found himself kissing back, his hands instinctively coming to rest at ChiChi's waist, stroking her sides gently.  He didn't understand what was driving him, telling him what to do, but it was definitely a relief.  However, apart from this strange instinct, Goku didn't feel _anything_.  The strange feeling in his gut was still there, but he didn't think that was what ChiChi referred to when she called their first kiss "amazing."

At last, ChiChi broke free, her cheeks flushed with pleasure.  "Wow," she whispered, glancing at Goku with admiration.  "I _told_ you!"

Goku just nodded, not sure of what he was supposed to say to her.  He knew his body was reacting in some ways — how else could he explain the shivers that ran up and down his backbone, or the twisting in his insides? — but his mind was just as confused as ever.  He didn't know what he should be feeling — or how he would ever find out.

"Well, I - I'm going to bed," Goku announced, hoping she didn't think he was being rude, but luckily, ChiChi only smiled. 

"Yes, I guess I'm a little tired, too," ChiChi cocked her head to one side, and her face started to turn red again.  "Do you . . . mind if I sleep with you? — Just sleeping, of course," she added hastily, in case Goku mistook her offer.  "I mean, you don't have to, but . . ."

Goku thought his eyes were going to pop from his head.  ChiChi wanted to sleep with him?  When he was little, he'd asked Bulma that once, and she had freaked out on him.  Through the years, Kuririn had been the only one of Goku's friends willing to share a room with him — and even then, they always had separate beds or pallets.  He knew he and ChiChi would be sleeping together once they were married, but . . .

"Yeah!" he shouted enthusiastically, grabbing ChiChi in his arms and jumping down from _Kinto'un_.  "My bed or yours, ChiChi?"

ChiChi just laughed, her arms around his neck, hugging him.  "Whatever you want, Goku-san."

_I'll figure this husband thing out eventually_, Goku thought confidently that night, as he lay with ChiChi curled up beside him.  It wasn't quite like sleeping with Grandpa Gohan, but it sure beat lying in bed by himself.  _And ChiChi sounds like she'll be pretty patient with me_.

He frowned a little, just before dropping off to sleep.  He'd been pretty good at faking that kiss — although it hadn't seemed to mean anything to him, he could tell it had given ChiChi a lot of happiness.  Goku knew he could keep that up for a while — but how long would it be until he figured out this "love" thing for himself?  

Well, unfortunately, only time could tell for that one.  Goku was willing to wait — for a little while, at least.  He only hoped he had everything sorted out by the time the wedding came around.

******


	2. The Thin Line

Disclaimer: I do not own DB/Z/GT. If such a saga were the product of my mind, I could scoff at scholarships and turn up my nose at student loans. As it stands now, though . . . I'm reduced to begging for tuition funds. Bah. 

A/N: Hey, I've gotten positive feedback for this -- this is just great! I didn't know how many people would actually read this, but I'm glad that some people have liked it. *beams* I don't have much to say about this chapter - it's the wedding, and that's all I'm telling you. Heh. 

Gradual Love

**Chapter Two: The Thin Line**

Son Goku fiddled with the collar of his dress shirt, looking at himself dubiously in the mirror for the sixth time in the last hour.  He wasn't sure why he had to wear such a weird-looking outfit — ChiChi called it a "tuxedo" or something, and when he'd complained, she just laughed at him.  He had told her he didn't like wearing such goofy clothes, but ChiChi just giggled and kissed his cheek, telling him he was handsome and shouldn't worry.

Goku frowned sullenly.  He put up with a lot of silly stuff to do with this wedding, but he'd been assured by many people that it would be worth it.  Yamucha, in particular, had elbowed Goku repeatedly in the side and told him to wait until the wedding night — "After _that_, you'll forget all this junk, believe me!" — but Goku wasn't so sure.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Kuririn called jauntily from the doorway, "Don't you look cool, Goku!  Man, I wish I looked that good in a tux!"

"You can have it," Goku muttered, turning to face him.  Kuririn was dressed in a white tux similar to Goku's, though he looked much more comfortable in the formal wear than Goku felt.  "Why do we have to have this wedding, anyway?  I feel so embarrassed!"

Kuririn laughed, clapping Goku on the shoulder.  "If you weren't, I'd be worried about you, buddy.  Are you nervous?"

Goku blinked.  "Why would I be nervous?"

"I dunno.  I just thought most people got nervous at their weddings."

"Oh," Goku shrugged indifferently, glancing down at his friend.  "Well, I'm not."

Kuririn tilted his head to one side, and one eyebrow lifted curiously.  "Hey, what's the matter?  You look like you're having second thoughts."

Goku bit his lip, and he turned away from Kuririn.  The former monk was his best friend in the whole world, but he didn't know if he was quite ready to admit his problem yet.  Even someone as understanding as Kuririn probably wouldn't get it — Kuririn liked girls a lot, and had even told Goku he was jealous of him.  He wouldn't understand if Goku was hesitant about marrying ChiChi.

"Goku . . ." Kuririn jumped up onto the dresser, perching on the edge and swinging his feet.  "You . . . you love her, right?"

_Hey, how did he guess_?  Goku wondered, panicked.  Did ChiChi know, too?  How many other people had figured out his secret?

" . . . right . . .?" Kuririn repeated, then his eyes widened and he grabbed Goku's shoulders, shaking him.  "Goku!  Answer me!"

Goku hung his head, feeling more ashamed than he ever had in his life — and he didn't know why, exactly.  He couldn't help it if he didn't have feelings for her, could he?  It wasn't like he could _make_ them or something . . .  "No," he mumbled, drawing his lip between his teeth again.  "I don't even know what love means.  But I" — he felt fear squeeze his heart, and he looked at Kuririn, frightened — "I don't want to hurt ChiChi.  I like her a lot, but I don't think I love her."

"Oh, wow," Kuririn echoed softly, letting go of Goku's shoulders.  "Well, I wish I could help you, bud, but I don't know any more about love than you do," he eyed Goku suspiciously, shifting his position on the dresser.  "Are you sure you don't care about her, though?"

"I never said I didn't care about her," Goku argued quickly, not wanting to sound like someone who was really mean and nasty.  His whole life he tried to help people and be nice, but this time he didn't know what else he could do.  "I just said I don't love her.  She's a really good friend, but . . . I don't have the same feelings like she has for me."

Kuririn fell silent for a few seconds, then he blew out his breath in a sympathetic sigh.  "Well, that's too bad for ChiChi, 'cause I know the girl's crazy about you.  Bulma says she never stops talking about how wonderful you are.  You must be pretty good at pretending if she hasn't guessed by now."

Goku sniffed miserably, feeling almost like he was going to cry, though he knew he wasn't.  He never cried — but he came close, this time.  "Yeah.  I just don't know how much longer I can do this.  People aren't supposed to marry their friends.  They're supposed to marry people they love!"

"I know, pal," Kuririn rubbed a hand across his bald head in frustration, looking angry that he didn't know how to help.  "Hey, wait.  How _do_ you feel about her?  Are you sure you don't like her even a little?"

"What?" Goku scratched his head, confused.  "Of course I like her!"

"Goku . . ." Kuririn's voice was politely condescending, and he shook his head.  "Goku, Goku, Goku . . . I don't mean do you like her, I mean, do you '_like_' her?"

Goku started to say "What?" again, but didn't.  He had long given up trying to distinguish between the various nuances of words.  He understood the difference between sleeping with someone and "sleeping with" someone, but he didn't know what the big deal was between liking and "liking."  He sure had a lot to learn about this love stuff, and he wasn't sure if he'd ever figure it out.

Kuririn must have caught the look, for he smiled crookedly.  "You don't get the distinction, huh?  Well, lemme' try to explain it a little . . . do you ever . . . uh . . . feel different about ChiChi than you do around other people?"

Goku thought back to the previous weeks, when he and ChiChi would sit on _Kinto'un_ or the roof of the house, watching the stars or the moon.  He remembered the two of them lying together in the tall grass, pointing out the different shapes of the clouds.  He thought of the way ChiChi would look at him sometimes, that sent his stomach doing that fluttery thing again, and the feeling like mice were running up and down his spine.  He thought of her kisses, which, just recently, started to mean more to him than just another action like talking.  Or the way she would snuggle up to him at night, and he all of a sudden felt warm and . . . and . . . nice, somehow.

"I . . . guess so . . ." Goku said slowly, pondering.  "My stomach gets all weird sometimes.  It's like I'm really, really hungry, 'cause it squirms and jumps around, but sometimes it happens after I've just eaten, and I _know_ I'm not hungry again."

Kuririn brightened at that, and he pounced on the piece of information like a cat on a mouse.  "When does that happen?"

Goku related all the instances he could think of, telling Kuririn of the looks ChiChi gave him, or the spontaneous hugs when they were alone.  "And with kissing and stuff, I used to not like it," he felt his face turning red, and he wondered why that was happening.  Maybe it was because he'd never talked about kissing with anybody but ChiChi.  "I mean, it was nice, but I used to feel really guilty that it meant so much to ChiChi and I didn't feel anything at all."

He paused, trying to find the right words.  He'd never realized how hard it could be to voice certain feelings — Goku had never had trouble before, having always been a very frank person, never afraid to talk about how he felt.  But suddenly it was like someone had built a wall between his brain and his mouth, and the words were having trouble climbing over it.

"But the other day, I was eating supper and I complimented her on her cooking.  ChiChi's a really good cook.  And she smiled at me, and I got that funny feeling again . . . and I knew she wanted me to kiss her.  ChiChi gets this _look_ when she wants me to do that," Goku explained for Kuririn's benefit.  "Her eyes get all sparkly and she stops talking and just stares at me.  She always wants me to kiss her or hug her when she looks like that.

"But I couldn't," Goku balled his fists at his sides, not noticing Kuririn's alarmed expression.  "I couldn't do it anymore.  I couldn't pretend.  I was going to tell her . . ." he glanced up, confusion dancing in his dark eyes like leaves in an autumn wind storm.  "But she didn't give me the chance.  She was sitting next to me at the table, and she just grabbed my face and kissed me."

"She'd kissed you before, though, hadn't she?" Kuririn looked puzzled, as though he couldn't picture ChiChi _not_ being affectionate with him.

"Well, yeah.  But not like that.  That time she kissed me really hard, and she did some stuff with her tongue," Goku laced his fingers together, staring at his knuckles.  He didn't realize the embarrassed flush that crept to Kuririn's face — all he could think about was the kiss.  "And I was thinking, 'Oh, ew, her tongue is inside my mouth', and I almost told her to go away, but . . ." Goku waved his hands around in the air, and he stared at Kuririn helplessly.

"I don't know what happened, but all of a sudden I _liked_ it," Goku knew he must sound stupid, but he couldn't help it.  He was confused.  Why would he like someone's tongue in his mouth?  It didn't make any sense!  "My stomach was - was turning somersaults, almost, and my whole body went tingly, and I couldn't move.  ChiChi came and sat on my lap and kissed me for a long time.  And I just sat there feeling weirder and weirder and weirder, and I don't understand _any _of it . . . I was so confused I couldn't even kiss her back, but I don't think she noticed."

Kuririn whistled softly, giving Goku a look of admiration.  "Well, good for you!  It sounds like you _do_ have feelings for her, and they're getting pretty strong.  What are you worried about?"

Goku scowled, wishing he could just put Kuririn inside his head so he could understand without Goku having to struggle to find the right words.  "It's not the same.  My body liked it, and it likes to go funny sometimes when she's around, but my head stays normal.  As soon as we were done kissing, my brain started thinking about how I shouldn't have done that, and that I let ChiChi take advantage of me, and I should tell her everything . . ."

It was no use, though.  Goku didn't have a large enough command of the spoken language to properly express what was going through his mind.  It was absolutely tormenting, for his mind and his body to be in constant conflict with each other all the time.  He rested his elbows on the dresser and plopped his face in his hands, feeling miserable.  

"I don't understand what's happening to me," Goku groaned.  "Why is this love stuff so hard?  I thought I would _know_ when I loved her.  You know, I'd suddenly change inside, or I'd hear music, or . . . or . . . or _something_.  But I haven't felt anything yet!  I'm just getting more and more mixed up, and I have to marry her today, and I'm scared about what's going to happen after that, 'cause I don't want to hurt her but I don't want her to think I love her when I'm still really confused . . ."

A hand fell on his shoulder, and Goku glanced up to see Kuririn smiling at him.  "It's okay, Goku.  You'll figure things out.  You're just not used to any of this, that's all."

"No, I'm not," Goku agreed readily.  "Why didn't _you_ promise to marry her, Kuririn?  It would've made this so much easier!"

Kuririn's face turned a bright crimson colour.  "Me?!  Aw, Goku, you've gotta' be kidding!  ChiChi's really hot, yeah, but . . . aw, geez, I could never _marry _her!  Even if she wanted to!"

That was something else Goku didn't understand — the obsession Kuririn, Yamucha, and Master Rôshi had with "hot" girls.  Master Rôshi had tried to show him the difference once, but the girls all looked the same to Goku.  Yeah, he noticed differences in their faces or their body shapes, but he didn't get what made one girl better-looking than another.  They all looked nice to him.  Of course, he would never tell ChiChi that.  Goku got the impression ChiChi was sensitive about her looks, though he didn't understand why.  He didn't see anything wrong with her.

Again, this confusion was something Goku had thought would straighten itself out by itself, but it had been years since that conversation with Master Rôshi, and he was still no more enlightened than he had been at age twelve.

"You'll be fine," Kuririn's cheery voice broke through Goku's less-than-pleasant thoughts.  "ChiChi's a great girl.  You'll get this sooner or later.  There's a very thin line between liking someone and loving someone, and you're bound to cross it soon."

"I hope so," Goku muttered, still not sure.  All this stuff about feelings, and love, and marriage, and everything else were things he'd never even _heard_ about a year ago, and all of a sudden he was expected to know everything about them!

"_There_ you are!  Good heavens, we're all waiting for you!"

Bulma's sharp voice made the two men jump, and Goku grinned sheepishly.  "Sorry.  We'll be right there."

"You'd better, the ceremony's about to start!" Bulma reminded them, then she stopped, looking Goku up and down.  "Wow, Son-kun, you look amazing!  You should wear a tux more often."

"Really?"

"Really!  ChiChi's just gonna' die when she sees you," Bulma winked, and Goku frowned.  Die?  He didn't want ChiChi to die just because he had agreed to wear a white suit!  "It's an expression, Son-kun," Bulma giggled, noticing his bewilderment.

Kuririn stifled a laugh, and Goku watched with amusement as Bulma turned her appraising gaze to the short fighter.  "It's too bad you don't have a girlfriend, Kuririn-kun," Bulma remarked, "'Cause she'd love to see you.  You look really handsome."

"So do you," Kuririn stammered, and Goku covered his mouth to stop his chuckles, but they slipped out anyway.  "I - I mean, you look beautiful," Kuririn corrected himself, his face flushing with embarrassment.

"You think so?" Bulma beamed at the praise, oblivious to Kuririn's discomfort, and she twirled on the spot, her skirt flaring out from her calves.  Goku had the sudden thought that he liked ChiChi's legs better — they were way more muscled than Bulma's.

"Definitely," Kuririn nodded emphatically, turning even redder.  Goku looked at Bulma then, curious, and admitted to himself that the light pink dress looked good on her, as far as Goku knew about dresses.  It was kind of tight and the neckline was a little low, he thought, but then, Bulma liked stuff like that — it made Yamucha stutter and act all funny, which Bulma thought was hilarious.

"Thanks," Bulma gave a little curtsey.  "I hope Yamucha likes it.  And he looks _gorgeous_ in his tux," she disappeared into her own little fairy world, as Goku liked to think of it, before finally snapping back to reality.  "Oh my goodness, we're going to be late!  You boys, get outside _now_!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

The wedding was being held outside, in the grassy yard behind Bulma's enormous house.  Goku, having grown up in the woods by himself, had a strong aversion to an indoor marriage ceremony, and ChiChi agreed, saying it would be too stuffy if it were held inside.  The weather was beautiful, sunny but not too hot, and couldn't have been more perfect.

Not very many people attended the ceremony — Bulma and her family, Kuririn, Yamucha, ChiChi's father, Master Rôshi, Tenshinhan, Chaozu, Yajirobe, Kami-sama, Popo, Oolong, and Pu'ar.  It was very informal, which was the way Goku liked it, anyway.  This wasn't a Tenkaichi Budoukai; there was no reason for crowds and crowds of people to be there.  

Goku didn't remember much of the ceremony, or indeed any of it at all.  Everything passed in a blur, as his mind was still racing about the night to come and whether or not to tell ChiChi.  Suddenly it was time for him to say his vows, and Goku snapped into attention enough to repeat the words the priest was saying.

He heard himself promise to love and cherish ChiChi, to protect her, and never to leave her until one of them died.  That didn't sound so bad . . . he could handle that.  There weren't any more battles to fight, so Goku didn't see any reason why he should leave anymore.  He slipped the ring on her finger, noting how soft her hands were — and the next second, wondering why that had crossed his mind.

As ChiChi said her own vows, Goku found himself staring at her.  She looked . . . different . . . in a way he couldn't explain.  The dress she wore was a very light pink colour, almost white, with lace and flowers on it — Goku winced inwardly, thinking of all the trouble they'd had to go to just to get that gown.  Her hair was pinned on the top of her head beneath the veil, though she let two strands fall on either side of her face.  She looked nice.

Goku didn't understand it, but something about the dress and the way she had done her hair — ChiChi looked softer, somehow.  He didn't notice how muscular and toned her body was, or how tough she always appeared to be.  She looked quieter, happier, and completely at peace — even though he'd never thought of her as a "girly" type of woman, she seemed quite comfortable in the clothes she was wearing.

At that moment, ChiChi lifted her eyes to his, and the smile that touched her mouth seemed to light up her entire face in a brilliant, contented glow.  She took Goku's hand and slid the ring over his finger, slowly, like she wanted to savour the moment.  Goku smiled at her, glad she was so happy, and he forgot all his doubts for a few precious minutes.  Even after the rings had been given, ChiChi didn't let go of his hand — instead, she linked their fingers together lightly, taking a step closer to him.

Something went wrong with Goku's brain.  His heart began to beat faster than normal, and his face felt oddly warm.  His stomach started jumping again, and his breathing was irregular.  He didn't get what was happening, but he realized somewhere in the back of his mind that it was nothing to worry about.  That whatever he was feeling was a good thing.

The priest was saying something — something important.  Goku shook his head a little, trying to clear out the buzzing in his ears, and finally was able to tune into what the priest was telling him: "You may kiss the bride."

Goku gulped.  He glanced to the side, where he saw Kuririn wink and give him the thumb's up.  Bulma had happy tears streaming down her face, and she was clinging to Yamucha's arm like he was some kind of giant teddy bear.  All Goku's friends were smiling encouragingly at him — except for Master Rôshi, who was crying so hard that his face was buried in a giant tissue.  Pu'ar patted the old man's knee comfortingly.

_Okay_, Goku thought, and he brushed the loose strands of her hair behind ChiChi's ear, cradling her face in his hands.  He smiled.

_I love you_, ChiChi mouthed, causing Goku to pause for a split-second as a strange emotion slammed into him.  It was a feeling similar to the one when he was about to fight a worthy opponent, or when he was going to dig into a wonderful meal.  

Without wanting to think too hard about what he was feeling, Goku shook the questioning tendrils of thought away, and found himself stroking ChiChi's cheek with his thumb.  He was startled to see tears filling the young woman's black eyes, but soon realized she wasn't crying from sadness.  She caught his gaze, smiled a little, then her eyelids fluttered closed.

Goku swallowed, then tilted ChiChi's face up to meet his, and kissed her softly.

He'd expected the strange body feelings, the flutters and shivers, but they didn't come.  Instead, came a flash of comprehension — brief and fleeting, but present nonetheless.  It was like a glimpse of what Goku had hoped to feel the first time he kissed ChiChi; the understanding and knowledge he wanted to gain.  It was there, for a fraction of a second . . .

ChiChi started to pull away, but Goku felt a stab of panic.  The enlightenment was there, just beyond his reach, with everything he wanted to know about feelings and everything else — he couldn't break off yet!  Before ChiChi's mouth had quite lost contact with his, Goku quickly pulled her face closer, capturing her mouth again, deepening the kiss.  

As with their first kiss, the rush of anticipated knowledge didn't come . . . but something was different this time.  Goku began to understand the connection between the "weird stuff" his body was doing, and the emotions Kuririn had been talking about.

And for the first time, Goku realized that love might not be far away, if he wasn't afraid to look for it.

Kuririn cleared his throat politely then, and Yamucha started to laugh.  Goku jumped, having forgotten anyone else was there, and that they were all watching them kiss.  "Goku," ChiChi murmured against his mouth, not very clearly, and she definitely sounded reluctant.  "Short, remember?"

Goku did remember her telling him that, at weddings, the couple wasn't supposed to kiss for very long.  It was for ceremony only, and wasn't supposed to last for more than a few seconds.  Not wanting to embarrass her, Goku finished the kiss and drew back slowly, noticing that ChiChi's face was flushed and her eyes were sparkling.

"Bad Goku-san," she whispered teasingly, "You were supposed to keep it short, silly!"

Goku laughed heartily, turning to face his friends as they all ran up to congratulate them.  "I don't think you minded," he shot back, and smirked at her when ChiChi rolled her eyes at him.

He liked this feeling.  Goku was warm, all the way from his toes to the top of his head, and he felt so full of happiness that he might explode any minute.  He looked at ChiChi, and emotions he'd never experienced began flitting through him — through his mind as well as his body.  She glanced up at him, noticed him staring, and stuck out her tongue at him.

Goku was startled, because in that short second, he understood what Master Rôshi had tried (and failed) to explain to him about what made girls pretty.  He finally knew what Kuririn meant when he said "Do you '_like_' her" — and he knew that, indeed, he did.  Goku grinned crazily.

He understood!

******

A/N: Thought he'd say "I love you" back, didn't you! *chuckles* Well, I don't think Goku would. Not yet . . . He's getting smarter, though, isn't he. Good boy! 

Ah. Just a side note: In case anyone is expecting a lemon in the next chapter, you might as well go somewhere else, 'cause I don't write 'em. There's nothing wrong with sex, but I haven't had it, so I ain't gonna' write it! There will be implications of what happened, but that's it. Sorry if that disappoints, but most of you who've read my stuff know I don't write sex scenes. 

See ya' next time! 


	3. The Danger of 'Knowing'

Disclaimer: I do not own DB/Z/GT. Of course, I don't know why I bother to write in disclaimers . . . it doesn't excuse the fact that this story is a breeding ground of copyright violations, etc. And having a disclaimer doesn't necessarily mean that I'm not doing this for profit - I mean, I could add a disclaimer while getting paid and happily live my life until I got audited. Hmm . . . 

~*~*~ 

_Leia stands behind a podium on a large stage, overlooking a crowd of several disgruntled readers. Many are holding picket signs, all of which read variations of "Update quicker, you irresponsible, lazy author!" or, more simply, "More now!" _

_"Well, excuse me, I was on vacation," Leia snorts, and several readers roll their eyes at the pathetic excuse. "But yes, I do generally take a long time to update - but that isn't my fault!" she glances at a pile of paper on her desks and rustles through it. (She's really not doing anything at all - the pages are blank - but it looks official, doesn't it!) _

_"I suppose it's time for chapter three, isn't it," she remarks casually. Some of the more enthusiastic readers cheer, the obnoxious ones boo, but most of them barely show any interest. A few don't even look up from clipping their fingernails or whatnot. _

_Leia laughs. "Who's up for a lemon chapter?" she asks, making sure to add enough elbow-jiggling and eyebrow-waggling to make the point perfectly clear. _

_Most of the readers break out into enthusiastic applause or lewd gestures. However, in the front row, three or four reviewers begin to gag, vomit, squirm, or otherwise show extreme discomfort. One of the readers -- we'll call her Rae G. - or maybe R. George - yells obscenities at the rowdy nymphomaniacs and threatens to beat them all up. Leia singles out those few (but faithful!) individuals who are allergic to lemon written by inexperienced virgins. She smiles. _

_"No?" she grins (wishing she had fangs, because that would make it SO much more evil), "Good. That's what I thought." _

_Within seconds, nearly the entire crowd has emptied out of the stadium, grumbling about stupid prudes who ruin perfectly good stories by not putting in gratuitous, pointless, graphic sex. The younger readers remain, smiling happily, as do the older ones with more common sense. R.G. flings cans of frozen lemonade concentrate in the direction of the departing readers, yelling, "You want lemons? Here! Have lemons!" -- then rolls her eyes and sits back down. _

_Leia is laughing so hard that she nearly falls off the stage. _

_~*~*~ _

A/N: Please excuse the above scene . . . I'm in a very satirical set of mind. Keep in mind I had just read Rae's review for chapter 2 when I thought of that, and it sort of tainted my mind. Previously, I didn't know anyone was as militant as I about lemon-writing virgins! Hopefully I've managed not to step on anyone's toes with that, but if I did, then forgive me . . . 

On with the chapter! It's pretty short, but it's a pretty straight-forward scene. Poor Goku. 

Gradual Love

**Chapter Three: The Danger of "Knowing"**

Outside on the mountain, the light was a pale grey as it gently lit up the scenery.  The small river near the forest glinted with flashes of sunlight, sparkling with silvery glimpses as fish swam through.  The morning sun also fell upon a small house, sitting on the top of a hill.  It was newly constructed, but little, homey details were already in place — flowers on the windowsills, and a good luck symbol painted on the front door.

Inside, Son Goku lay on his back in bed, frowning.  It was the infamous morning after the wedding, and Goku was in a bad mood . . . or, at least, in as bad of a mood as the cheerful man could get.  He had been assured that the wedding night would be an amazing experience, but in Goku's opinion, it had been anything but.

Oh, it was memorable, all right . . . memorably embarrassing.  Goku had realized for the first time that "knowing how" to do something did not necessarily mean that he would be good at it. 

He'd hurt her.  Goku's face scrunched into an expression of regret and pain as he glanced at his new bride, who was finally sleeping peacefully.  If he thought too long about it, he could still hear her surprised cry of pain — she had assured him she was all right, but Goku had seen the tears glistening in her eyes.  He himself was a little sore, but nothing like ChiChi had been.

Goku turned away from her, rolling on his side so he faced the rest of the room.  He didn't know how he could face her now . . . not after the previous night.  What was supposed to be — according to Master Rôshi — the greatest night of their marriage had been both a painful and humiliating experience. 

Failure was something completely alien to him — and as such, Goku had no clue how to deal with it.  With it, or with this horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach.

ChiChi made a small noise in slumber, and Goku stole a glance at her over his shoulder.  He'd been so sure of himself the night before — the flashes of understanding that had come to him had made him too cocky.  Goku had gotten too confident with himself . . . and now, he'd hurt her.  He wouldn't blame ChiChi if she decided she didn't want this marriage thing after all, promise or no promise.

His stomach lurched, and he realized that he didn't want that to happen.  He was afraid to lose what had been just beyond his grasp, as startling as that was.  Goku had gotten too used to the intimacy that he and ChiChi shared, and he didn't want it to go away.

Goku rolled over again, and he watched ChiChi sleep.  He chewed nervously on his bottom lip, wondering what he should do now — what, if anything, ChiChi wouldn't feel uncomfortable with.  His stomach was churning with uncertainty, and finally Goku reached out and touched her hair.

ChiChi's black locks were spread over her back, and Goku brushed the dark strands away.  When ChiChi didn't stir, Goku paused again, then slowly, he moved close to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, feeling her warm skin and the soft fabric of her nightgown.

They'd both gotten dressed again afterwards, following a few minutes of embarrassed silence.  Neither of them had spoken — indeed, they barely looked at each other — and that was when Goku's thoughts had begun to harry him.  Goku, a man never used to introspection or self-examination, had been paralyzed by all the self-doubt that suddenly assailed him.

He buried his face in ChiChi's hair, hoping to lose himself in the sweet smell of it, but stiffened suddenly when ChiChi turned over in his arms and opened her eyes.  She blinked a few times, looking bleary, but when her gaze focussed, she smiled a little.  

"Good morning," ChiChi yawned casually, but Goku didn't miss the slight wince that spasmed across her face for the briefest of seconds.  Or the deliberate slowness with which she moved when she changed positions.

"Morning," Goku mumbled, letting his arms drop and releasing her.  He scooted away to his side of the bed, hugging his pillow tightly.  He barely trusted himself to touch her anymore.

ChiChi frowned.  "Goku-san, what's the matter with you?" she demanded, and Goku's insides froze.  _Here it comes_, he thought.  "Why are you hiding?"

His mouth twitched, and Goku felt a sensation inside him like he had just thrown up, and his stomach was painfully empty.  "I . . . I don't . . ." he stumbled over the words, feeling like an idiot but knowing nothing else he could say.  "I . . ."

"Goku-san?" ChiChi propped herself up on one elbow, her expression quizzical.  "Are you all right?"

Goku opened his mouth to speak, but found that no words came.  He looked at ChiChi, and his insides tightened up like when she kissed him . . . but he felt like he was going to lose an important fight.  He stared wordlessly at her for a few seconds, then suddenly blurted out, "Don't make me go away!"

When no reply reached his ears, Goku peeked over the corner of the pillow and saw ChiChi gaping at him, her mouth hanging open in what appeared to be shock.  Slightly encouraged by the lack of anger, Goku swallowed hard and forced himself to speak.  "I know you don't want to be married anymore, but I'm just starting to like it, and if you'd just let me learn some more —"

His next words were silenced as ChiChi's pillow hit him in the face.  Goku sputtered for a few seconds, then shouted in surprise as ChiChi whapped him again.  "Son Goku, where did you ever get a stupid idea like that?" ChiChi yelled, the confusion gone, replaced by the emotion Goku had hoped she wouldn't display.  "Why would you think I don't want to be married?  Is this some crazy way of telling me that _you_ wish you hadn't?  Because if it is, then let me tell you —"

"No!" Goku cried, and ChiChi halted her tirade, still glaring.  "I - I thought you wouldn't want —"

"Why?" the fury slipped away, and once again Goku was startled by the rapidity of ChiChi's mood shifts.  Now she gazed at him with concern.  "Why wouldn't I?"

Goku sat up, seizing her hands in his in a sudden gesture of sincerity.  "Because I hurt you!"  he burst out, pointing at the blood on the bottom sheet.  "You pretended you weren't, but I could tell!  Why don't you find somebody who knows how to do stuff right, and who doesn't make you cry?"

One corner of ChiChi's mouth lifted, and she squeezed his fingers.  "Oh, Goku-san, it always hurts the first few times, no matter who it is.  It's not your fault."

"Really?  You're not just being nice?"

"No.  If it was your fault, you'd know it," ChiChi winked at him, probably trying to lighten the mood, but Goku was still too nervous.  He wasn't used to such uncharted territory — everything about marriage was new to him, and there was no manual to read.  There wasn't even anyone he could watch and copy!  "Relax.  It's all right."

"Okay," Goku sighed in relief, and he grinned widely, scooping ChiChi into his arms for a giant bear hug, pressing his face against her shoulder.  "I'm so glad!  I didn't hurt you on purpose."

ChiChi laughed and hugged him back, her fingers grazing his spine in a way that sent warmth shooting through Goku's body like a wave.  "I know.  Do you feel better now?"

Goku nodded wordlessly, holding her tightly.  He'd never thought of how much ChiChi meant to him, how much it terrified him to think that he might have pushed her away.  Was this feeling, this fright — was it love?

"So how about breakfast?" ChiChi pulled away, quirking an eyebrow at him.  "Are you hungry?"

At the mention of food, Goku's stomach rumbled loudly, and they both laughed.  But before he could answer, Goku looked at ChiChi again — _really_ looked at her, like he had at the wedding.  He saw how her eyes lit up when she smiled, and how nice her hair was when it just tumbled around her shoulders naturally.  How seeing the nightgown straps sliding off her muscled shoulders made his breath catch.

Goku shook his head, noting the surprise that sprang across ChiChi's expression.  He grinned at her, swept an errant lock of hair out of her eyes, and kissed her firmly.  When he drew back, ChiChi was staring at him with a mixture of confusion and pleasure.

"It's too early," Goku told her, lying down and tugging on her arm.  "Let's wait."

******

A/N: Well, I hope you enjoyed that. Like I said, short -- but chapter 4 will not be long in coming, I promise you that. Let me know what you think!


	4. Fun and Consequences

Disclaimer: I don't own DB/Z/GT. My therapist says I have to say that at least six times an hour so my delusions don't act up again. 

A/N: Wow . . . never thought I'd get so many positive reactions to my anti-lemon decision! *blinks* I guess I never realized how many people there are who don't need that kind of thing to enjoy a story, eh? 'Course, as Bucky says, it's kind of sad when those of us who attempt to write cleanly have to keep defending our take all the time . . . True, true . . . 

But to all of you who support me, THANK YOU!!!!! *hugs for everyone* It's a lot easier to stand up for myself when I have others (so many others!) agreeing with me! 

Well, in celebration, here's chapter four! And only one week (exactly!) after posting chapter three . . . that hasn't happened in a LOOOONG time. *wipes sweat off forehead* This story is the only thing keeping me from destroying all my in-progress fanfics, because it reassures me that Writer's Block hasn't quite finished me off just yet . . . *grin* 

So! Enough chatter - I rambled enough last time (though I still think that's funny). Onward to Namek -- err, to chapter four! 

Gradual Love

**Chapter Four: Fun and Consequences**

"Darn it, Goku, if you don't stop taking it easy on me, I swear you'll pay for it . . ."

Son Goku laughed appreciatively as his wife faced off against him, her face bright red and eyes snapping with anger.  She was wearing one of his old training suits, the belt cinched tightly around her slender waist, and the baggy fabric made her look even smaller than usual — but did nothing to diminish the rage on her features.

ChiChi's anger was not irregular . . . after the wedding, she had demanded that Goku teach her how to be a better fighter.  Just because his defeating her had led to their marriage, didn't mean that ChiChi wanted to be weaker than he all her life.  Goku thought it was a little silly — he knew instinctively that ChiChi would never reach his level — but if that was what she wanted, then fine.

Of course, after the wedding night, Goku became intensely protective of her . . . and as a result, refused to hurt her.  Whenever they sparred, Goku never hit her very hard — even though it made ChiChi _very_ mad.

"Aw, come on, hon," Goku dodged another ill-aimed punch and grabbed ChiChi's wrists, spinning her around and pinning her with an arm around her shoulders.  "You're never gonna' be as strong as I am.  Why don't you just give up?"

"Give up?" ChiChi roared, in the same tone of voice that had scared the daylights out of Kuririn and Yamucha at the Tenkaichi Budoukai.  "Are you _crazy_?  One of these days I'm going to beat you, Son Goku!"

"Okay, whatever," Goku rested his chin on her shoulder, enjoying how mad she was getting.  It was rare that Goku could ever egg her on except in these situations . . . and no matter how many times they went over the argument, Goku never failed to get a rise out of her.  "If that'll make you happy."

Any next taunts were swallowed up in ChiChi's inarticulate yell of rage, and the next second, Goku found himself lying flat on his back on the lawn.  ChiChi, having successfully thrown him over her shoulder, shouted in victory and straddled his chest, punching him in the face.

Goku spent a few moments unable to think or speak, too shocked by the fact that ChiChi had managed to get the best of him.  Her blows didn't hurt, but they were enough to startle him.  "ChiChi, whoa!" he called, "Go easy!"

"Easy?" ChiChi scowled, "I've had enough of you babying me!  I married you, didn't I?  Why don't you give me any respect?"

"I just don't wanna' hurt you, that's all," Goku explained, and he reached up and snaked his arms around her, pulling her body down close to his.  "I'm not trying to be mean, honest.  But I know how strong I am, and I . . . I don't want to see you hurt.  Okay?"

ChiChi calmed down a little, the frown still present on her face but not quite so ferocious.  "I don't like being patronized, you know," she warned him, though the vehemence was gone.

The word was unfamiliar to Goku, and he blinked.  "Well, whatever that is, I don't think I was doing it.  Or if I was, I didn't mean to."

A small smile quirked the corners of ChiChi's mouth upward, and she rested her head on Goku's chest.  "All right, I believe you."

Goku grinned, releasing her to comb his fingers through her raven hair, which had long escaped the confinement of ChiChi's hair band.  "Good . . . but you sure are cute when you're mad at me!"

ChiChi's eyes widened and she opened her mouth to retort, but Goku pulled her face down and kissed her before any more scathing words could be flung at him.  Goku knew he was getting her angry, but was also aware that she never could stay mad for long.

Sure enough, ChiChi soon stopped swearing against his mouth and kissed back, making Goku smile.  He still wasn't one hundred percent sure about the love stuff, but he did know that he sure liked this!  There was something about sparring with ChiChi — especially when it ended up this way, he thought with an inner wink — that made it even better than sex.  At this stage, anyway . . . maybe not when they got a little better at it, but right now it was still kind of embarrassing.

Goku's musings were interrupted as ChiChi broke off suddenly, and dug a knee into Goku's gut.  "Oof!" he yelped, and ChiChi rolled off him, laughing in triumph.  

"Boy, when you let your guard down, you really let it down!" ChiChi doubled over in hysterics as Goku gave her a baleful stare.  "Maybe you're not such a hot martial artist after all, Goku-san."

Goku rolled his eyes, more annoyed at himself for letting ChiChi get through his defenses than in actual pain.  "Well, nobody's ever kissed me in battle before."

"And nobody'd darn well better!" ChiChi snapped, but her eyes sparkled to let Goku know she was only _half_ serious.  

Goku rolled his eyes, then pounced on ChiChi without warning.  He intended to startle her by playing the same trick as she had on him, though he knew it wouldn't work.  ChiChi was too smart to be fooled by something so obvious as that maneouver.

Even later, Goku wasn't sure what happened.  He didn't know whether he moved too fast, or if ChiChi's mind was elsewhere . . . all he knew was that when he feinted at her, ChiChi simultaneously tried to tackle _him_.  Surprised by her sudden move, Goku was unable to stop himself before his knee came into hard contact with ChiChi's stomach.

It took him a few seconds to realize that ChiChi wasn't kidding when she collapsed in on herself, crying out in pain.  When Goku finally noticed that the tears streaming from her eyes were real, he panicked.  "ChiChi!" Goku screamed, "You weren't supposed to let me hit you!"

"Thanks . . . a lot . . . genius," ChiChi gritted, and Goku was able to smile a little, albeit tightly.  If she was able to be sarcastic, she couldn't be hurt too badly.  "Goku-san," ChiChi grabbed the front of his t-shirt, her eyes rolling.  "I think . . . I'm going . . . to . . ."

The next second, Goku was forced to turn away as ChiChi vomited all over him.

Goku's own stomach lurched instinctively, but he had seen much worse in his lifetime and was able to control the reflexive impulse.  Less easy to hold back was his ever-escalating hysteria, which was building up at an exponential rate.  "ChiChi . . ." he searched desperately for words of comfort, but none came to him.

"Goku-san," ChiChi's face was screwed up into a perfect picture of agony, but she bit down hard on her lip and managed to speak clearly.  "Hospital," she ordered, spitting out the words between clenched teeth.  "Now!"

Wordlessly, Goku nodded and picked her up, swallowing his revulsion as ChiChi threw up again.  What was the matter with her?  A simple knee to the stomach shouldn't have affected her as badly as it did . . . he must have done something else!  Immediately, Goku's brain came up with the simplest response — he hadn't controlled his strength, and he had hurt her.

Again.

The frenzied trip to the nearest hospital was the closest thing to a nightmare for Goku, as he clutched the small form of his wife to him.  His thoughts were chaotic and scrambled, and he didn't manage to make one coherent statement inside his mind.  All he knew was that ChiChi was in pain, and he didn't know what to do.

Part way through the trip, ChiChi began bleeding heavily from an alarming area, soaking the legs of her jumpsuit by the time they reached the hospital.  For his part, Goku found it difficult not to rip the doors off the hinges and blast through walls as he fought to find his way in the confusing labyrinth of corridors.  As it was, he ran over several nurses and doctors who didn't get out of the way quickly enough.

"She's sick, where am I supposed to go?" Goku shouted, distraught, to several startled-looking passers-by, and he was quickly led to the Emergency Ward.  All the bustling doctors and nurses made Goku extremely nervous, as did the distressingly-clean, sterilized smell that pervaded everything.  That smell, actually, scared Goku almost as much as ChiChi's condition, because it was so foreign to everything the young man had been brought up with.

A white-clad doctor came up to them then, concern crinkling the lines of his face.  "Right this way, sir," he turned abruptly and strode to an available room, Goku following at a frantic pace.  "Can you tell me what happened?"

In halting words, Goku struggled to communicate what preceded his arrival.  He left out the part about sparring, however, just in case his attack hadn't been the cause — he was willing to grasp at any reason to hope that it wasn't his fault ChiChi was in pain.

"Well, we'll be able to tell much better once we've examined her," the man glanced at Goku dubiously, and the warrior swallowed hard.  He could tell the doctor didn't quite believe him.  "If you'll just wait outside until we've finished —"

"WHAT?" Goku's voice scaled upwards into the panic register, and in a sudden spasm of decision he stopped in the act of putting ChiChi on the stretcher.  He glanced wildly at the doctors, the medical instruments (including myriad needles!), and computer monitors, and he clung to ChiChi like a mother to her child.  "No!  I'm not letting you take her if I can't come with you!"

"Sir —"

Fear slammed into him harder than Piccolo's attacks had.  Goku shook his head vehemently and backed away, still holding ChiChi close.  The instinctive protectiveness he felt for her had magnified itself ten times over by now, and he pressed his forehead to hers.  "No.  NO!  No, no, no . . ." he tried to protest further, but wasn't able to think clearly enough to speak coherently.  "She's mine . . . you're not taking her away!"

ChiChi, her head lolling back on Goku's arm, managed to meet his gaze.  She had been drifting in and out of consciousness for some time, and he didn't know how much of the situation she had been able to grasp.  But before Goku could fly off with her, ChiChi mustered up a super-human resolve and grabbed Goku's collar, bringing his face down close to hers.

"I'll . . . kill you . . ." ChiChi declared vehemently, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her tone hoarse.  "If you . . . don't . . . let them . . . help . . . me."

"How are you gonna' kill me?" Goku demanded in anguish, "You - you can't even —"

"I'll . . . find . . . a way . . ." ChiChi's mouth curved upwards in the barest hint of a smile, but her expression changed to pain again in less than a second.  "Please," she begged in a cracked voice.  ". . . It hurts . . ."

In the end, it was her weakness that persuaded him.  Granted, Goku hadn't known ChiChi for very long, but he was acquainted enough with her idiosyncracies to realize that she never asked for help.  She never admitted to pain, always wanted to do everything herself, always refused Goku's assistance . . . he couldn't very well refuse when she finally asked for it.

That didn't make it any easier, of course, when Goku had to leave her in a hospital room filled with doctors and needles, with her crying out in pain.  It didn't ease his anxiety as he paced up and down the hallways at near super-speed, until he was asked to stop because he was literally wearing a groove in the floor.  He tried going to the cafeteria to get some food, but had to turn away when the lady behind the counter asked for money.

No matter what he tried to do, either practicing his kata in the hallway, attempting (and failing miserably) to meditate in the lounge, or trying to sneak into ChiChi's room to see if she was all right — none of it calmed him down in any way.  The longer he waited, the greater his jitters got . . . until it took all his self-restraint not to burst into the room, grab ChiChi in his arms, and fly away with her — away from the doctors, away from those scary needles, away from the dying people in the next room and the sickly clean smell of the scrubbed halls and floors . . .  The smell kept getting stronger, filling his nostrils until they stung, growing stronger inside his head until his temples pounded and he could barely think straight.

Hours passed, and Goku was curled up on one of the couches in the waiting room, his hands pressed over his ears, wishing he could go away from this place and everything that had happened.  He didn't like being scared like this, and didn't like not knowing what was the matter with ChiChi.

He especially didn't like thinking that it was his fault all of this had happened . . .

"Son-san?  Son-san!" the impatient-sounding voice of a young woman brought Goku back to his senses.  He took his hands off his ears, forcibly ignoring the blaming voice inside his head, and looked at her worriedly.

"Is she okay?  What's the matter?"

The doctor lady looked concerned, which didn't surprise Goku, but what did make him jump a little was the way she glared at him.  It wasn't obvious, but her eyes were dark and stormy, and her mouth was pressed in a thin line.  Goku felt a twisting sensation in his heart, like someone had stabbed him and was turning the knife over and over inside his chest.

"Your wife," the doctor began firmly, with a look of doom on her face — Goku wanted to shrivel up and die right there.  It was the same look that Grandpa Gohan had given him, years ago, whenever he did something really, really bad.

"What, what?" Goku demanded frantically.

She sighed, annoyed, and Goku wondered why the heck she was so mad.  Weren't doctors supposed to be nice and reassuring?  Why did she look like she was going to kill him?  Goku swallowed hard and edged away from her, even though he knew he could destroy her with his pinky finger.  

"Your wife has had a miscarriage."

******

A/N: *sigh* I tried, people . . . I really did . . . but for those of you who've read a large percentage of my work, have you ever known me to maintain a happy mood throughout an entire story? *shakes head* I didn't think so. 

I realize miscarriage is a touchy subject (as is what I'll be writing about in the NEXT chapter or two), but rest assured I won't be taking it lightly. Anyone who's read my K/18 "I Can't Make You Say Goodbye" will know that two of my family members have had miscarriages, and I'm very aware of its effects on a family. 

Well. No more. I'll start writing chapter five now. 


	5. Miscarriage and Misconception

A/N: *sigh* I tried, people . . . I really did . . . but for those of you who've read a large percentage of my work, have you ever known me to maintain a happy mood throughout an entire story? *shakes head* I didn't think so. 

I realize miscarriage is a touchy subject (as is what I'll be writing about in the NEXT chapter or two), but rest assured I won't be taking it lightly. Anyone who's read my K/18 "I Can't Make You Say Goodbye" will know that two of my family members have had miscarriages, and I'm very aware of its effects on a family. 

Well. No more. I'll start writing chapter five now. 

Gradual Love

**Chapter Five: Miscarriage and Misconception**

"Um . . ." Goku stared blankly at the doctor, trying to assimilate what she had just said and uncover the hidden meaning.  "What's a miscarriage?"

The woman gaped at him in unabashed shock, and Goku instantly felt uncomfortable.  Was it his fault that he didn't know everything about sickness?  Why did people have to treat him like he was a moron just because he didn't know everything?  "A miscarriage," the doctor explained, her stony expression returning once more.  She spoke as though to an idiot child.  "Is when the child dies inside its mother."

Oh right, like that really helped . . . Goku felt no less confused than he already was.  "Huh?  What's that got to do with ChiChi?  Her Mom died when she was born."

"Your wife was pregnant, Son-san.  When the _accident_ occurred" — she spit out the word "accident" like a swear word, but Goku didn't know why — "it caused her to lose her baby."

Goku still wasn't sure what she was driving at, but he just sat there and let the information sink in at its own pace.  Babies . . . dying inside their mothers . . . ChiChi . . . pregnant . . . accident . . . his eyes flew wide, and he jumped from the couch in shock.

"You mean — I was going to be . . . be a Daddy?" Goku choked out, feeling like a giant fist was crushing his throat.  "And now the baby . . . is . . . dead?"

The doctor nodded shortly.  "Unfortunately, yes."

Goku clutched his head in his hands, various scenes playing themselves over in his mind, in a bizarre, tortuous collage of memories and realizations.  His knees drilling into ChiChi's stomach — ChiChi, crying, bleeding, unconscious — the long, panicked wait while ChiChi was trapped in the examining room — the stern face of the doctor . . .

"I killed a baby," Goku whispered, feeling worse than he had in years.  He had to fight to keep from dissolving into helpless sobs, as again he was hit with that unfamiliar emotion — guilt.  He'd gone his whole life barely ever feeling it, but in the past few months had experienced enough to cripple him mentally.

"If you'll excuse me," the woman made a funny, disapproving noise.  "I have other patients to attend to," briskly, she spun on her burnished heel and left.

Goku remained paralyzed, staring blankly at his hands as though they could provide the salvation from his inner  turmoil.  At long length, a single thought sprang into his head like a firecracker:  _ChiChi_!

The young warrior leapt from his position and tore through the hallways, realizing he hadn't been in to see her since their arrival at the hospital!  He quickly got lost in the maze of rooms once more, but used his wife's distinctive _ki_ signature as a homing beacon.

When he finally found her, ChiChi was asleep — she was frowning slightly, but didn't appear to be in any pain.  One doctor was present, checking through some records or something — Goku wasn't sure.  when Goku approached, the man glanced up from his clipboard with veiled dislike.

Goku was taken aback.  Why did everybody look so mad at him?  He hadn't meant to hurt ChiChi — if he'd known she was going to have a baby, he never would have agreed to spar with her!  He would have made her stay in bed, and he would have tried his best to make her dinner and keep the house clean.  But no, the doctors insisted on glaring at him with the same expression that Piccolo had worn after Goku gave him the _senzu_ bean.

"Hello, Son-san," the doctor inclined his head in greeting, though there didn't seem to be much genuine politeness in the gesture.  "I have a few questions for you."

"Okay," Goku agreed readily, not wanting anyone to be angry, though all he wanted to do was talk to ChiChi and apologize.  He shifted from foot to foot like an anxious five-year-old, toying with his fingers.  "Can I sit down?"

"Whatever suits you."

Goku perched on the edge of the bed, reaching tentatively to clasp ChiChi's unresponsive fingers in his.  "Okay, what do you need to know?"

The doctor remained standing, and he pulled a pen from behind his ear, holding it poised above the paper.  "Why don't you tell me what happened yesterday?  From what we could tell, the miscarriage was initiated by a blow to the stomach."

Wincing, Goku glanced at ChiChi, noting how much paler she appeared with her black hair spread around her on the white pillow.  "Well . . . we were fighting," he began.  He would have said "sparring," but Yamucha had told him the word could have sexual connotations, and he didn't think ChiChi would like that.  "And I was goading her, 'cause it's funny when she gets mad . . ."

It was rather unnerving, how the man scribbled down everything Goku said, but he did his best to ignore it.  "And I kissed her, and she got even madder for a bit . . . then she pushed me away and kneed me in the stomach . . . it kinda' hurt but not really . . . so I kicked her real hard . . ." Goku felt anguish creeping over him, and he heard it enter his voice.

"I didn't mean to hurt her like this!  I thought she would get out of the way, but she didn't,"  Goku swallowed hard.  The longer he explained, the fresher the pain and guilt got.  "Every other time that I kicked or punched her, she'd dodge or block or some...thing . . ."

Goku trailed off as he noticed how the doctor was eyeing him — as though Goku had just killed somebody in front of a group of children.

"You say you've struck your wife before, sir?" the doctor questioned him sharply.

"Only when we're fighting," Goku was quick to reassure him.  "I don't hit her when we're eating or sleeping or something."

The poorly-concealed disapproval was sliding away, replaced by blatant fury.  "And you _admit_ this?"

"Well . . . yeah . . ." Goku scratched his head in confusion.  A little warning siren was going off in his head, but he didn't know the cause.  "Why should I lie?"

The man was looking at him with a mixture of disbelief and revulsion contorting his face.  "I never heard . . ." he muttered, shot an evil eye at Goku, then clutched his clipboard to his chest and hurried out of the room like his coat was on fire.

Goku frowned, still puzzled, then he shrugged and let the matter dropped.  He'd never understand doctors, no matter how hard he tried — which wasn't very, because he didn't really care.  Their motives were alien to him.

"ChiChi?" he called softly, knowing he should let her sleep, but worry had been gnawing at him for too long.  "ChiChi . . ."

She moaned and stretched, her eyelids fluttering, then her eyes opened slowly.  A look of pain quickly succeeded her initial expression of panic and confusion.  "Hello, Goku," she murmured reluctantly, like she didn't want to speak to him.

"Good, you're okay!"  Goku burst out, the relief he felt so strong that it hurt his chest.  "I thought you were gonna' sleep forever!"

Deliberately, ChiChi turned on her side, her back facing him.  "Go away," she hissed.

Goku jerked back, stung.  He hadn't expected that!  "ChiChi —" he placed a hand on her shoulder, gently pressing down so she had no choice but to roll over and look at him.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't want to put you in the hospital."

ChiChi's face screwed up, and he could tell she was still displeased.  Goku tried again.  "I never want to hurt you . . . I _told_ you sparring was a bad idea . . ."

"Shut up," ChiChi snapped, her eyes and tone full of venom.

Dutifully, Goku closed his mouth, though inwardly he was a mass of uncertainty.  He'd never seen ChiChi so upset with him, so acerbic in her manner . . . he didn't know what to do!

After a few seconds of frantic thought, Goku smiled.  He decided he would kiss her — that always made her feel better, no matter what she was angry about.  Kissing solved everything, Goku thought diplomatically.

But when he bent over her, ChiChi turned her face away, and Goku's lips brushed her ear instead.  He pulled back.  _Huh_?  What was that for? He didn't remember ChiChi ever refusing a kiss before.

"Don't touch me," ChiChi told him, in a raw, gravelly voice.  "Don't you get it?  That's how this mess started!"

Goku's mouth opened and closed several times before he gave up trying to formulate a response.  With a small sigh, Goku rose from the bed, defeated.  "I'm sorry," he repeated, having lost count how man times he uttered that statement in one morning.

"I lost my baby, Goku," ChiChi's words jabbed at him like _ki_ blasts.  "A baby I didn't even know I was carrying.  I don't want to talk to you for a _very_ long time."

The blankets had slipped off her, and Goku noticed with an unpleasant jolt that her pale skin was covered in purple discolorations.  He'd never realized the effects his blows actually had on her . . . she blocked them so easily, that he hadn't given them second thought.

He wondered if she had hidden her previous injuries from him on purpose, hiding bruises on her face with makeup, wearing long sleeves and pantaloons beneath her dresses so he wouldn't see.  He certainly would have stopped sparring with her if he had known, but ChiChi wouldn't have wanted that.

ChiChi glanced at him over her shoulder, face drawn and expressionless.  She had a black eye, and her lower lip was swollen. Goku's stomach contracted.  How could he have been so wrapped up in the thrill of sparring that he had missed them before?  "Aren't you leaving?" she asked coldly.

"Yeah.  I'll stay in the waiting room until you need me," Goku nodded heavily.  "'Bye.  Um . . ." he started to say something that would be comforting and reassuring, but came up dry.  "Well, yeah.  'Bye."

He fully intended to go to the waiting room like he'd told ChiChi, but Goku decided he didn't want to be somewhere that anyone could see him.  He'd had enough with the dirty looks and accusing stares, like he had hurt ChiChi on purpose.  If anyone had taken time to ask him . . . but no one had.

Goku wandered through the hallways, keeping his mind open so he could duck into a room or another corridor if he felt someone's _ki_ approaching.  After turning dozens of times and finding himself in unfamiliar surroundings somewhere on the third floor, Goku decided he was safe to relax.

He turned around, examining the room he was in, and discovered he was in the hospital library.  It was a good idea, Goku thought ruefully — if he had known it was there earlier, he would have looked up ChiChi's sickness and tried to guess what she had before the doctors could tell him.  Maybe then they wouldn't have been so mean to him if he hadn't seemed so stupid!  

It was a way to pass the time, at least, and a much more attractive one than moping.

Goku stood in front of one of the massive bookshelves, not knowing where to start.  He could read all right — Grandpa Gohan hadn't been able to teach him much before he died, but Goku was a quick study with pretty much anything, and had picked up enough of the skill to get by.  In fact, the only time Goku had ever gotten annoyed with ChiChi was when she naturally assumed he couldn't read, acting shocked when he added something to their shopping list.

It was funny, really, how little they had known each other before getting married.  He had the feeling that it wasn't how things were supposed to work.  But anyway.

Suddenly, Goku's roving eye jolted to a stop: a thin book on the third shelf bore the bold title, "Miscarriage - Why it Happens, How it Happens, and How to Cope."  People had written books on what had happened to ChiChi?  Well, he supposed it made sense . . . pulling the book from the shelf, Goku moved to an armchair across the room and began to read.

Goku skipped over the first few chapters, which dealt with a bunch of scientific terms that he didn't understand.  It was basically explaining about . . . well . . . he wasn't sure.  All the words except "the" and "and" and "or" pretty much had five syllables and twice as many letters, and Goku didn't really care anyway.  He knew what had caused ChiChi's condition, and didn't want to be reminded.

The next sections dealt with what women felt when they went through it.  The more he read, the more Goku's stomach twisted with sympathy for ChiChi . . . he'd known there was pain, since he could still hear her cries ringing in his mind, but he didn't know there was so much of it!  And there was nausea, and fatigue . . . not to mention a whole bunch of hormonal stuff.  Goku didn't know what hormones were, but he figured messing with them had to be bad, since it caused depression, rage, and a list of things he didn't know but guessed weren't good to feel.

Hey — there was something interesting!  One passage declared that it was normal for wives to be volatile (whatever that meant) and explosive around their husbands after a miscarriage occurred.  They often felt alone, and angry that their husbands weren't affected as they were.  Many women placed blame on their partners for the incident, and relations could be strained for some time afterward if the matter wasn't handled properly.  All of this was normal, and the book encouraged men to be supportive and patient, and not get annoyed that their wives weren't moving on.  Even if they themselves thought the matter more trivial than their wives made it out to be.

Goku sat back in the chair and stared at the book without really seeing it, letting all the information sink in.  He didn't move from that spot for some time, sorting through what he had read and formulating the best method of dealing with it.  Soon, it came to him:

He just had to be patient, and wait for her to feel better.  He wouldn't do anything ChiChi wasn't ready for.

Suddenly cheerful, Goku bounded up from the chair and placed the book back on the shelf, deciding to go see ChiChi again.  It was okay if she yelled at him — it was just because of all the hormone stuff going funny.  She didn't really hate him or anything like that.

He felt so relieved that the young man actually skipped down the hallways, humming happily to himself and drawing odd looks from various hospital orderlies.  Maybe he should let ChiChi read the book herself, so she would know that what she was feeling was normal, and then perhaps she wouldn't feel so bad.

When Goku reached ChiChi's room, a group of doctors and other official-looking people were huddled together in front of the door, speaking in hushed, solemn tones.  Goku stopped ahead of them and waved.  "Hi," he greeted them, "Can I see ChiChi now?"

The people all looked at each other, then a man stepped forward.  He had a stern look on his face, and he looked important — something about how he carried himself, and the piercing way he stared at Goku gave that impression.  "Son Goku?" he asked gravely.

Goku blinked, his happiness slowly giving away to caution.  "Yeah," his eyes widened.  "Did something happen to ChiChi?  Can I see her?  Is she okay?"

The man shook his head.  "Son-san, my name is Dan West.  I'm the representative for my organization, OPAW," he held a pamphlet out to Goku, who accepted it warily.

"Organization for the Protection of Abused Women," read the paper, and Goku stared at it in incomprehension.  At last, it dawned on him.  "Oh, okay!  You're gonna' help ChiChi get through her miscarriage?  You're like a counsellor, right?"

Mr. West cleared his throat with an air of reproachful disdain, and he shook his head.  "No.  Due to the circumstances in this particular case, it is in your wife's best interest that our organization step in.  Custody of your wife has hereby been revoked, pending a hearing that will follow upcoming investigations."

"What?" none of the words made sense to Goku, and he had the annoying feeling that the man was speaking loftily on purpose.  That really bothered him, when people acted superior just because they had gone to school and he hadn't.  However, he got the feeling that whatever Mr. West was saying, wasn't good.

No one ventured to explain, so, scowling, Goku studied the pamphlet again.  Under a heading called "Mission Statement," some startling words jumped out at him:

_To provide temporary sanctuary for women mistreated by their partners, until such time that a.)women are able to financially support themselves, or b.)they may return to their partners after he has received counselling/treatment, and chances of recurring abuse are as low as possible._

Everything fit.  The glares, the questions, the bruises . . . he thought how it must look to a doctor, seeing the type of miscarriage and all ChiChi's injuries.  _Especially_ with the way Goku had answered the questions — he'd practically admitted to hurting her on purpose!  And now, this man from an organization for battered women . . .

Goku felt like he had been gut-punched.  

_They think I hurt her on purpose!  They think I do it all the time!_

His head snapped up, taking in the impassive faces of the people in front of him.  Goku's voice cracked as he fought to keep his composure.

"_You're taking her away from me_!"

******


	6. Over and Over and Over Again

Disclaimer: I do not own DB/Z/GT.  In fact, since I am only a few months from attending University, it would be farcical to suggest that I own anything at all.  By the time I've finished with loans and grants, I probably won't even own my own clothing . . . 

A/N:  I'm not even going to _look_ at the date of my last update, because this story has given me so much gosh-darned trouble, that I'll admit I 'shelved' it, so to speak, and haven't looked at it for the last two months.  I was much too annoyed by any previous attempts at drafts that I decided to wait until I obtained a fresh outlook.

And so, I'm afraid that has resulted in a very lengthy gap between updates, but I really was stymied at how to proceed.  When writing the last chapter, I hadn't even envisioned Mr. West and OPAW until they suddenly wrote themselves into the story … so I very effectively 'wrote myself into a corner', as I'm sure some saying goes.  (If not, then I copyright it as mine!)  

Even now, I'm not sure how it worked.  The flow of this chapter is different from the rest of them, but the regular style and content should return by the next one.  I don't know about the success of this chapter, but I'm almost positive it's the longest one so far.  Bleaugh.

Oh.  I hope no one thinks I am belittling social workers, women's shelters, and the like – I have great respect for all such organizations.  I am, however, writing from Goku's point of view, and I doubt he fully understands how the situation would look from another's perspective.

Well, that's enough of _that_.  Shall we move on?

(I'd like to add that, at this very moment as I am typing, I am on vacation in the Bahamas, using my Aunt's laptop.  I hadn't thought to write any fanfiction while I was here, but the atmosphere was just so conducive to creativity that I couldn't help myself.)

Gradual Love 

**Chapter Six: Over and Over and Over Again . . .**

Goku had seen and experienced many horrible things in his lifetime – including the deaths of his grandfather, his best friend, and his mentor – but in that moment, every traumatic memory fled from his recollection.  Faced with the complacent social worker and the stern-faced doctors, Goku felt panic rise to scrabble up in his throat.

He swallowed many times, gulping in great breaths of air, as the invisible vice around his chest tightened.  "You can't take her!  You – you can't!" wildly, Goku whipped his gaze from face to face, but the expressions that met his wide eyes were impassive, furious, and coolly professional, respectfully.

"I'm afraid, given the circumstances, we can, and we must," that was Mr. West.  "You'll have to admit that your wife was admitted under more than suspicious circumstances."

The same man who had faced Tao Pai Pai, the Red Ribbon Army, Piccolo Daimaou, and Maa Junior without a shred of fear, now felt his blood run cold.  "But – but I didn't mean to hurt her!" he protested.  "We were sparring – ChiChi's a champion martial artist – she wanted me to – I don't like being rough on her, but she made me – she got mad if I took it easy – " Goku's voice scaled up into the hysterics range, the one Yamucha used when faced with a PMS-suffering Buruma.

The female doctor bristled and stepped forward, looking like she wanted to take a chunk out of Goku then and there, but Mr. West held out his arm and stopped her.  "That's enough, Son-san.  If you persist on being difficult, security will be called.  If you leave quietly, things will go much easier on your part."

Goku turned to the door and pressed his hands helplessly against the glass window, watching ChiChi.  She lay curled up on her side, the blankets pulled over her protectively, shaking her head as a nurse offered her a tray of food.  Seeing her but unable to go to her or provide any comfort, Goku felt a strange feeling flood through him.  He wanted to pick ChiChi up and cradle her in his arms, holding her to his chest.  He wanted to stroke her hair and kiss her forehead – things that calmed her when she had nightmares.  Maybe the doctors would change their minds, if they could see how worried he was.

"Son-san," the voice was even and level, but steely with the edge of command.  "You have to leave now.  Remember, the permanence of the situation is still pending, until the investigation is made.  My organization will conduct it, of course, and afterwards it will be decided whether or not it is safe for your wife to return to you."

"But I can't . . . I can't be without her," Goku clutched his hair and tugged forcefully on the strands. He'd never realized how much he took ChiChi for granted – her presence, whether beside him in bed, or bustling about the house; her smile, bright and infectious; and her cooking . . . Goku had become accustomed to ChiChi's hearty cuisine.

"The investigation will last a matter of months, and the hearing will immediately follow," Mr. West informed him.  As though that made everything all right!

Goku couldn't tear his gaze from ChiChi's unmoving form, and he thought irrationally that everything would be okay if only he could go in and talk to her.  He would tell her about the book he'd read, and how he understood what she was feeling, and would help her the best he could . . .  ChiChi would tell Mr. West (politely, of course), that she didn't need his help.

"Let me talk to her," Goku pleaded, "Just for a few minutes."

"I can't allow that," the doctor interposed firmly.  "My patient needs her rest, and must not be disturbed."

_She's your patient, but she's _my_ ChiChi!_

The idea of ChiChi at a woman's shelter was a frightening one, at least to Goku.  He pictured her, living with many abused, hurt, and bitter women . . . women who would instantly sympathize with ChiChi's supposed situation, and would try to help her . . . eventually, she might begin to believe that Goku really _had meant to hurt her!  This immediately took flight in Goku's mind.  He could see the other women, kind and well meaning, endeavouring to pull ChiChi out of her "denial" . . ._

He couldn't have that – he couldn't!  Not when he enjoyed ChiChi's company so much, when he was still getting close to knowing what love was!

Blood began pumping rapidly through his body, hammering in his temples, and Goku's eyes narrowed with anger.  He'd refrained from getting physical, but they hadn't listened to him!

In an instant, the normally gentle Goku had the doctor by the throat and slammed him up against the wall.  "Let me see her!" Goku shouted, shaking the man for emphasis.  "You can't take ChiChi away!"

Mr. West was at his side in a flash, commanding Goku to put the doctor down.  Through the roaring in his ears, Goku managed to hear what the social worker was saying to him.  "Don't you understand?  You've hurt her!  Accidentally – on purpose – sparring – arguing – abuse – unintentional – that doesn't matter!  Your wife could have died, and _you caused her this pain.   I don't care if you 'meant to do it' or not'; your wife has been putting danger, _by you_, and it is my job to remove her from that danger!"_

Stunned, Goku knew it was true, every word of it.  He stopped.  Mr. West, perhaps seeing his advantage, pressed on.  "If you really care for your wife as you claim to do, then you'll understand that this course of action is the best one.  She's not safe with you," silently, Goku released his grip on the now unconscious doctor, and backed away from the door.  Mr. West looked absolutely furious, full of righteous anger.

Goku turned and ran, breaking through the line of security guards who had been attracted by the ruckus; through the crowd of startled nurses; past the visitors, the patients on walks, the doctors . . . he didn't know his way out, and Goku turned down several wrong hallways, heart pounding and guilt screaming and tearing at him like the claws of a giant eagle.  At last he found an open window, through which he flew.

The wind whipped around him in chaotic frenzy, drawing tears from his eyes.  Goku didn't know where he was going, nor did he care.  He crashed through trees, flew through mountains, narrowly avoided a passenger plane . . . without noticing any of it.

Goku's chest heaved, his fists clenched, his entire body trembled.  Energy blitzed off him, sparking and exploding.  His teeth ground together until his jaw ached.

At last, Goku could fly no more, and he dropped to the ground, landing in a heap.  His fingers dug into his scalp as Goku buried his face in his hands – and suddenly, powerfully, the young man broke out into harsh, wracking sobs.

Hot, salty tears poured down the cheeks of a man rarely accustomed to crying, and never with such hopelessness.  His hands shook.  His energy rose, fell, and then peaked again.  He wept until no more tears could fall, until his lungs burned, and his body hurt from the force of his misery.

Goku's wild energy spiraled upward, gathered in the clouds.  Lightning crackled across the onyx sky, thunder crashed ominously, and eventually, rain fell in torrents.  Still, Goku did not move, even as his clothing became soaked, his hair hanging in limp strands over his face.

Still, he cried.

Time had no meaning. Goku did not know how long he sat, the self-induced storm roiling overhead.  The entire time, the horrible, guilt-ridden thoughts never ceased to torment him.  He felt it like a flock of feral vultures; shrieking, flapping, clawing, biting . . . he began to sob anew.

"Goku!  What happened?"

With drugged slowness, Goku raised his head, peered through the icy sheets of rain with bloodshot and swollen eyes.  Two figures – one tall, one short – gradually took shape.  Goku shook his head to clear his vision, and was finally able to identify them.

"They took her away," Goku croaked hoarsely.  Kuririn and Yamucha dropped to their knees beside him in the mud, peppering him with questions, but Goku just closed his eyes.  He felt one of them pry open his fist, where he realized dully he still clutched the OPAW pamphlet.

"Organization for the Protection of Abused Women," Yamucha read aloud.  He sounded incredulous.

Kuririn grasped Goku's shoulders, shaking him.  "Goku, you've gotta' tell us!  What's going on?"

His friend's urgency failed to penetrate the thick haze surrounding Goku's brain, but he did open his eyes.  "It's my fault," Goku's voice sounded hollow, even to him, "It's for the best," he tried to explain, but couldn't.

Kuririn and Yamucha exchanged glances, and without a word, they grasped Goku under the arms and lifted him into the air.  He let them carry him, too numbed to think how odd it was that his grief should be so strong.

He must have fallen asleep, because Goku had no remembrance of the journey.  When his eyes opened again, Goku was lying in a strange bed, between crisp linen sheets, dressed in a fresh set of clothing.

"Good, you're awake," Goku turned his head and saw Buruma watching him.  Her brow was creased, her mouth tight, but she smiled when he met her gaze.  "Son-kun, what happened?"

The pain slammed into him, and Goku shook his head.  At least he didn't cry.

"Son-kun, you have to tell me," Buruma insisted, reaching over to brush his still damp bangs off his forehead.  She held up the OPAW pamphlet.  "What is this?  Is it ChiChi?  If you talk to me, I might be able to help you."

These last words brought a small sliver of hope, and slowly, Goku began to speak.  He related to Buruma the events of the sparring match, of his fateful blow and ChiChi's collapse, of how the doctors scowled at him, of the questions and the assumptions, and finally the arrival and decision of Mr. West.

All the while, Buruma's face worked, going through the stages of concern, worry, sorrow, sympathy, disbelief, and anger.  "Well, he meant well," she murmured when Goku had finished, but again her visage contorted into what looked like fury.  "But really!  Anyone who even _looked at Son-kun would know it wasn't what it looked like . . ."_

Goku raised his eyebrows, feeling better already.  When Buruma got angry, things got done – he knew this from experience.  "Buruma?  Do you think you can get ChiChi back?"

Buruma bristled.  "Of course I can!  Now you just relax and sleep, Son-kun; you've had a long day, and I don't want to hear Yamucha tell me that you were up and about training again, you hear me?"

Goku smiled, and it was strange how good it felt to do so.  He never had a mother, but he imagined she would be something like Buruma.  "Thanks a lot . . . I didn't really hurt ChiChi you know," he half-sat up, propped up on one elbow, and looked at Buruma earnestly.  He didn't suppose she doubted, but he thought he would reiterate just the same.  It never hurt to be safe.

"I know that," Buruma seemed insulted that he would even question her.  "I just have to convince that man.  Well, I'll be back," she patted Goku on the shoulder, and left the room.

Goku lay back, feeling a strong sense of relief, though not without an undercurrent of worry.  Supposing the men didn't believe Buruma?  Supposing they had already taken ChiChi away, and Buruma couldn't find her?  Supposing – 

But Goku was so exhausted from his ordeal that he fell into a troubled sleep before he could 'suppose' anything else.

******

The murmur of voices woke ChiChi from her fitful rest, and she rolled over to face the doorway.  She still felt extremely sore, and her stomach was nauseous, but at least the throbbing pain in her abdomen had subsided.  Her emotions were topsy-turvy and she felt like crying, but a kindhearted nurse had informed her this was normal in her situation.

ChiChi sighed and rested a hand on her lower stomach, and without warning her dark eyes brimmed with tears as she thought of the tiny life that no longer resided there.  She hadn't even known of the baby's existence, but now that she knew of its death, her sorrow was unending.  So many if-only situations existed, but she refused to acknowledge them.  ChiChi knew they never got one anywhere.

Still, it was distressing beyond words to think that she and Goku could have been parents . . . _were parents, really, though the child had barely begun to develop.  She could only imagine what a wonderful experience it would have been if the baby had been born.  An only child, without memory of her mother (who had died in childbirth), ChiChi had longed for children of her own even before she was a teenager._

ChiChi sniffled and wiped away the tears, feeling silly.  She had long prided herself on being practical when it came to grief, so there was no need to get all weepy now . . . nevertheless, she couldn't help being sad.

The voices outside the door grew more insistent, and as ChiChi listened out of curiosity (and perhaps to get her mind off her troubled thoughts), she was surprised to identify the loudest voice as that of Briefs Buruma.  Sitting up, ChiChi strained her ears to hear what was going on.

"I understand your motives," Buruma was saying, "But you _must understand that Son Goku is the _least_ likely person to be abusive."_

_Abusive?  What on Chikyuu . . ._

"Briefs-san, I assure you, I was called in by several doctors.  Mrs. Son was admitted for a miscarriage caused by a blow to the stomach, and her body was covered in bruises.  Furthermore, her husband admitted to causing them –"

"Of course he did!" Buruma exploded.  "Don't you know who Son Goku and his wife are?  Don't you watch the Tenkaichi Budoukai?  Son Goku was the winner of the last one, and his wife was in the semi-finals!  They're both martial arts experts."

"That type of story has been told before."

Buruma's voice dropped, and ChiChi, still groggy enough that she didn't understand what was going on, was nevertheless able to sense the danger behind it.  "Are you accusing me of lying?  You, Mr. West, may not be aware of this, but my father's company, Capsule Corporation, has provided millions of dollars in funding, both to your organization, and to this hospital.  If I am to understand that you do not trust my word – nor that of my best friend – I'm afraid I will have to take my money elsewhere."

A pregnant pause issued, then the man continued.  "Briefs-san . . . I am very sorry to hear you resort to threats, and even more sorry that you do not believe me.  But if you would only view Mrs. Son's condition –"

"You're not listening to me!  I know Son-kun would never mean to hurt ChiChi.  Putting her in a woman's shelter would be the worst thing you could do!  ChiChi would agree with me, if you asked her.  In fact, I'm certain she would support both mine and Son Goku's statements."

"Abused wives often lie to protect their husbands, Briefs-san.  And it is the sad truth that best friends often do not realize that abuse is taking place.  I appreciate your efforts, but I do not believe you understand the severity of the situation."

"No, _you don't understand –"_

"I'm afraid, Briefs-san, that nothing can be done until a formal investigation has been made."

At last, ChiChi's sedative-fogged brain grasped the situation, and she was filled with disbelief and rage.  The doctors – and this mysterious Mr. West – thought that her Goku-san had hurt her on purpose – that she was a victim of domestic violence – and they intended on placing her in a women's shelter?  

Ignoring the pain that immediately stabbed at her, ChiChi swung her legs over the side of the bed and got unsteadily to her feet.  Taking a few shaky steps to secure her footing, ChiChi managed to hobble to the door and open it, where she found Buruma in heated exchange with a brown-haired young man.

"What's going on?" she demanded, addressing the unfamiliar man.  "My Goku-san would never hurt me on purpose!"

Mr. West looked at her tiredly, as though he had gone over this argument many times and would very much like to avoid having it again.  "Mrs. Son –"

"No!  I'm not listening to you!  I've heard you malign my husband long enough, and I'm not letting you do it anymore!" ChiChi trembled with rage, and she glared daggers at the man.  "Why are you being so persistent?  Why would Buruma lie?  I'm sure there are thousands of women who actually _are_ being abused, and would be glad of your help."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Son, but . . ."

And so on . . .

The debate raged on for over an hour, with neither side getting anywhere.  Buruma and ChiChi staunchly defended Goku's innocence (how could they not?), while Mr. West insisted that ChiChi remain at the shelter until the inquest was over.  The same arguments were hashed and rehashed, both parties becoming exhausted from arguing, when finally, a nurse approached them.

"Excuse me . . ." she cleared her throat timidly.  "But someone has come to see you, Mr. West."

The three of them turned and saw an old man with a long beard, dressed in a loud Hawaiian-print shirt and white shorts, wearing large sunglasses and carrying a shopping bag.  Never in her life had ChiChi been so glad to see the lecherous Turtle Hermit, for she knew he had somehow heard, and had come in Goku-san's defense.  He didn't even pinch or poke any of the nurses who went by.

"Good morning," Master Roshi bowed politely, addressing Mr. West.  "Somebody told me that you've bin questionin' the integrity of one of my students."

Mr. West's face lost a few shades of colour, but ChiChi credited that to exhaustion more than anything else.  "And you are . . . ?"

"Kamesen'nin, the legendary martial arts master," the old man couldn't resist giving a V for victory sign before lapsing into his somber mood once more.  "Son Goku was one of my pupils as a youngun, and I can't believe you think he would abuse his wife!" he tipped his head toward ChiChi.  "If you knew _her, you'd definitely see how silly that is.  That gal can sure take care o' herself!"_

ChiChi flushed, but said nothing.  Mr. West cleared his throat uncomfortably.  "May I help you, Kamesen'nin-san?"

"Well, sure, now that you've bin so kind ta' offer," Master Roshi grinned, "If I could use a VCR and a television, I might just be able ta' add a little to the arguments these fine young ladies have already given."

They were soon seated in the lounge, and Master Roshi puttered around with the VCR, talking to them as he did so.  "I got some tapes o' the last Tenkaichi Budoukai . . . assumin', o' course, that you even know what that is."

Mr. West admitted that he did not, and ChiChi felt a stab of exasperation.  What kind of self-respecting person _didn't know of the greatest martial arts tournament ever?  Master Roshi nodded sagely.  "I thought so.  Well, Son Goku and his wife here were both participants.  I dunno' if this'll help my boy any, but I thought if you would watch the tape o' their match, then mebbe' you wouldn't be so quick to call it abuse."_

He pushed play, and soon the television crackled and a rather shaky image of ChiChi and her Goku-san's fight at the Budoukai was played.  Forgetting the situation for a moment, ChiChi was caught up in the emotions of the memory . . . how intrigued Goku-san had seemed by her, and how outraged she was that he hadn't remembered his marriage proposal.  She watched each blow landed between them with professional interest, grimacing at her lack of technique, and marveling at Goku-san's courtesy (as annoying as it was at the time) for merely blowing her out of the ring instead of knocking her unconscious.

"Now, young man, p'rhaps you don't know much about martial arts," Master Roshi explained when the fight was over.  "But I think even an amateur like you can see that this beautiful young lady isn't about to let herself get manhandled, 'specially by her husband.  An' if you watched closely, you'd've noticed that he finished the fight quickly, so he wouldn't have to beat her up too bad.  They practise like this all the time."

Master Roshi kept on talking and providing other home videos of ChiChi and Goku-san sparring together, and ChiChi listened in awe.  For once, the dirty old man was being useful – his voice droned on with spellbinding quality, and she watched Mr. West's face carefully.  His expression was incredulous at first, as it would be expected to be, then finally his face shifted to something else.

"Well," Mr. West announced finally, looking at ChiChi.  "I'm afraid I must have been mistaken, given the evidence presented.  I'm sorry, Mrs. Son, but you have to understand that similar situations have come before me in the past, and their outcomes were not so positive.  I was only trying to protect you."

"I understand," ChiChi rose unsteadily to her feet, thought better of it as pain slammed into her stomach, and sat down again.  "I appreciate your concern," the urge to pick the man up and toss him through a window had finally abated, and she shot a smile of thanks at Master Roshi.   He waggled his eyebrows and grinned at her.

The next hour or so, ChiChi stayed in bed while Buruma, Master Roshi, and Mr. West went through various legal proceedings, in which the former two vouched for Goku-san's integrity and Mr. West signed his agreement.  She stayed awake long enough to see Buruma come back into her room and give her the thumbs-up before allowing herself to fall asleep.

******

Goku sat alone at the kitchen table, gnawing unenthusiastically at a haunch of meat from an animal he'd caught.  He'd left Capsule Corp. a few days ago, after hours had passed with no word from Buruma, and the young man had finally given up hope.  He knew his friend was persuasive, but obviously it wasn't enough to assuage the suspicions of the hospital staff.

"Hey, Goku!" Yamucha's voice was accompanied by a noise at the door – as though he were kicking instead of knocking.  "Are you home?"

"Yeah," Goku called back, and he got up.  Yamucha sounded happy, and hope spread through Goku again.  Maybe Buruma had finally gotten ChiChi out!  Goku didn't like dwelling on his misery, and unlike many people he knew, he grasped at any faint thread that would give him hope.  "Come on in."

"You wanna' get the door, pal?  My hands are full."

He'd probably brought a whole bunch of food, courtesy of Buruma, since ChiChi was still at the hospital.  Goku winced, for Buruma's cooking was definitely sub-par.  Especially compared with ChiChi's dinners!  What he wouldn't give for one of ChiChi's rice meals right now . . . what he wouldn't give for ChiChi, period, actually . . .

Goku shuffled to the front door, a little embarrassed.  He'd been too weary to change his clothes for the past three days, and he knew his appearance was probably less than acceptable, but he opened the door anyway.

Yamucha stood on the doorstep, carrying a sleeping ChiChi in his arms.

Goku's jaw dropped, and he couldn't think of a thing to say.  He had hoped, of course, that Yamucha would have brought some positive news about ChiChi's placement . . . but had never dared to dream that his friend would bring ChiChi home!

"Wh-what . . ." Goku stammered, and his heart swelled.  ChiChi was back!  His ChiChi was home – she wasn't taken away – she wasn't dying – she didn't hate him!  He stepped forward, intending to take her from Yamucha, but the latter shook his head.

"Uh-uh, my friend . . . you might hurt her.  You don't know your strength when you're excited," Yamucha brushed past Goku instead, still holding ChiChi.  She was wearing a hospital gown and still had ID tags on her wrists, but the bruises had faded and her lip was no longer swollen.  "You have a nice house here . . . can you show me where the bed is?"

Bursting with happiness, Goku fairly bounded into the bedroom, where he pulled back the blankets with such force that he whipped them right off the bed and into the hallway.  Grinning sheepishly, he retrieved them while Yamucha set ChiChi down.  Goku draped the covers over her body with a reverent gentleness, amazed at how _good it felt to see her again._

Yamucha slung an arm around his shoulders and looked at him seriously.  "Listen, man, you be careful with her, all right?  She may be a martial arts expert and all that, but you're way beyond all of us.  You don't want to hurt her again.  She doesn't deserve to go through all this."

"Nobody does," Goku murmured, a sense of solemnity pervading him.  It felt right to see ChiChi back in her own bed, but her skin was still pale and she frowned in her sleep.  Only time would tell what was going through her mind – and how she felt toward him.  He still couldn't forget her words to him the last time they'd spoken.

_I just lost my baby, Goku.  I don't want to speak to you for a very_ long time_._

"Thanks, Yamucha," Goku turned to his friend and enveloped him in a spontaneous hug.  "Hug Buruma for me, too . . . I can't – I can't say thanks enough!"

"It's Master Roshi you have to thank, apparently," Yamucha shrugged.  "Buruma says he's the one who convinced them to let ChiChi go."

"Oh.  Okay," Goku said brightly, "Thank him for me, too."

"Sure thing, pal," Yamucha left with a wave, and Goku slowly, gingerly, crawled into bed beside ChiChi.

He was careful not to touch her.  She had made that clear enough, that she wanted no part of any affectionate actions for a while.  Goku understood that.  The book said that they shouldn't sleep together for at least three months after the miscarriage anyhow, and Goku didn't mind.  He enjoyed talking and just being together more than sex, really.

He lay in bed and stared at her, and again was hit with the random thought that she really was beautiful.  _I'm lucky, Goku thought suddenly.  __I don't think I'll ever know how lucky I am.  He was flooded with feelings of tenderness and affection, and couldn't help but kiss her forehead._

One of Buruma's favourite sayings was that people didn't appreciate what they had until it was gone.  Goku shuddered, and he inched closer to ChiChi.  He'd never really understood that saying before, but he sure did now!  He vowed never to take ChiChi for granted ever again . . . never, ever, ever, ever, ever!

But underneath Goku's joy and relief was a small, niggling fear . . . what if ChiChi was so upset by what had happened to her – and their baby, Goku thought with a stab of pain – that she didn't want to marry him anymore?

******


	7. Healing

Disclaimer: I don't own DB/Z/GT. However, I DO own ... *pause* ... Nope, I got nuthin' ... 

A/N: This darn chapter has been extremely difficult. I wrote it four months ago (I think that's right . . .) but the computer didn't let me open it, since my aunt's computer apparently isn't compatible with mine OR my best friend's OR the school's. So. Hopefully, things will work this time. 

I'm very sorry about the delay, btw . . . No excuses.   
  
  


**Gradual Love **

**Chapter Seven: Healing **

The first thought that crossed ChiChi's muzzy brain was how comfortable she felt. _They must have moved me to a room with a real bed in it_ . . . she mused, feeling the sheets and soft pillow without opening her eyes. The previous hospital bed definitely left something to be desired in the way of coziness. 

The next fact that caught her notice was that somewhere, a window was open, for she felt warm sunlight on her face and heard the gentle melody of songbirds. A fresh breeze blew through as well, smelling faintly of pine trees and the mountains. 

Next: someone was snoring, and it sounded like it was coming from the same bed! 

_What kind of hospital room is this?_ ChiChi's eyes flew open and she snapped her head around to see why in heaven's name someone would be sharing her bed. It was a mixture of relief and confusion that filled her when she realized she was at home. 

The methods of when, how, and why she was returned home did not particularly interest her, for ChiChi was glad to leave the confines of the hospital. She had never had reason to stay in one before, and decided at that moment never to return to one again if at all possible. 

Goku lay next to her, sound asleep and snoring loudly, but ChiChi noticed he was curled up on the far side of the bed, giving her as much space as possible. Despite the anger she had felt toward him, ChiChi was hit by a wash of tenderness. He really _did_ care, didn't he . . . even after everything she'd said to him, her Goku-san was still sensitive to her needs. 

She had been harsh on him in the hospital, she remembered vaguely. ChiChi wasn't sure just what was said, as she had been heavily dosed with sedatives and painkillers, but she knew she hadn't been kind. Goku didn't deserve that, of course. He never meant -- 

_Go away . . . _

Her voice, sharp, angry, bitter, rang in her head, and ChiChi stifled a gasp. She'd never used that tone of voice with her husband before! He was like a child in his innocence, and as such she normally treated him with the gentleness accustomed to dealing with one . . . 

_Shut up . . . _

_Don't touch me . . . _

ChiChi covered her ears against the voices, as though that would help. Why had she said those things? It hadn't been Goku's fault . . . she had been the one to insist on the sparring match -- he had tried to stop her . . . 

_I don't want to talk to you . . . _

_Aren't you leaving? _

It was too much to take, and ChiChi felt tears begin their journey down her smooth cheeks. How could she be so cruel to the man she loved -- the man who was trying his hardest to love her back, despite no previous experience with the emotion . . . 

_It's not your fault_, a reasonable part of her mind reassured her. _You were drugged, in pain . . . you can't expect to be rational when you're hurting that badly. _

ChiChi shivered, taking comfort in the knowledge, but she felt it did not excuse her behaviour -- did not allow her to have acted so harshly. Poor Goku . . . he tried so hard, and she had shot him down without a thought except for her own pain! 

Well. She could make that right easily enough. Goku was the most good-natured person she had ever met . . . he would accept her apology willingly, even gratefully. 

She leaned over to embrace him from behind, but as soon as she touched him, ChiChi was wracked by a sudden sense of discomfort and pain -- yes, even revulsion! Pulling back in surprise, she tried again, but once more, could not bring herself to hug him. Doing so brought forth the memory of every emotional upheaval, every ounce of pain, felt during and directly after the miscarriage. 

ChiChi could not allow that to happen again -- she just couldn't. Her body, it seemed, was taking that precaution to the extreme. 

The slow trickle of tears soon changed to a rushing river, and ChiChi curled up into a ball as she cried, wringing the sheet between her hands until it became a sodden mess. She tried to cry quietly, burying her face in the pillow and trying desperately to stifle the harsh sobs, but it didn't work. 

"ChiChi?" a warm hand rested on her shoulder, accompanied by the voice saturated with concern. "ChiChi, what's the matter? Are you hurting again?" 

Still weeping, ChiChi sank back gratefully into her husband's open arms -- only to jerk back violently as her stomach turned over. Goku's touch -- it felt wrong somehow, and she couldn't stop it. "Don't touch me, Goku-san," she whispered raggedly. "I - I guess I'm not ready yet. I'm sorry." 

Goku pulled back, and ChiChi rolled over to face him. She expected to see his expression riddled with hurt and incredulity, but it wasn't. His face was resolute, and he nodded. "I read about that," he told her, giving her a look of comfort and sympathy. "There was a book on miscarriage at the hospital, and I looked through it. It said that you probably wouldn't want to touch me or hug me or kiss me or anything for a long time." 

ChiChi sniffled, but stared at her husband in amazement. Instead of pestering her with questions on what he had done wrong, and how could he fix it, and had he hurt her, Goku not only accepted the situation, but also seemed to have foreseen it! Could it be . . . she thought with amazement . . . could it be that her beloved, childlike husband had begun to grow up? 

"It's okay, ChiChi," Goku assured her, misinterpreting her look as one of confusion. "I don't mind. I won't touch you until you're okay again. I'll even sleep on the couch so I don't do anything by accident." 

"Goku-san . . ." ChiChi breathed, and all the anger she had felt toward him in the past few days melted away to pure love. More than anything she wanted to fling her arms about him and kiss him senseless -- but even the mere thought of it made her flinch. That would have to wait. 

"I love you so much," ChiChi smiled through her drying tears, and was gratified to see Goku's face light up with happiness and relief. He even -- good heavens! -- wiped at his eyes . . . as though he'd been crying! At that moment, those three little words, which had meant the world to ChiChi, suddenly felt dry and inadequate. They didn't come anywhere near the depth of feeling that swelled up inside her, threatening to burst out any moment. 

Goku grinned and reached out a hand as if to touch her, but pulled back just in time. "I know. And -- and every day I get better at figuring out what that means . . ." he frowned. "I was worried about you like crazy when that guy said he was gonna' take you away from me. I even --" he stopped, flustered, then shook his head. He seemed embarrassed. 

"You even what, Goku-san?" 

He lowered his voice to a whisper, and his face turned red. "I even cried. Ask Kuririn or Yamucha . . . I cried my eyeballs out! I've never, ever, ever cried that hard . . . not ever! My lungs hurt and my sides hurt and my chest hurt and my stomach hurt . . . I thought . . . I thought I was gonna' . . . I don't know . . . explode or crumple up or something when I thought you were gone. I even thought," here his face twisted up in anguish, and again he almost touched her. "I thought you didn't want me anymore. I thought you were gonna' say yes to that social worker guy." 

The earnestness of his declaration touched ChiChi to the core, and she smiled at him. "I almost pitched the 'social worker guy' through a wall, Goku-san." 

Goku giggled, something she'd never heard him do before. "Really? You were gonna' beat him up?" 

"Oh yeah," ChiChi chuckled. "The poor man, he really was trying to help." 

"He picked the wrong one, though," Goku shook his head in amazement. "When you need help from anybody, I think the planet will explode from surprise." 

"You buffoon," ChiChi laughed, and the uneasiness with which she'd started the conversation faded away. She really was lucky . . . 

They couldn't touch each other, couldn't kiss or hug, but they could talk. They could still understand each other. ChiChi realized, possibly for the first time, that physical contact did not make a relationship. Just because she wasn't comfortable with touching Goku didn't dim her feelings for him any. The relief from that was overpowering. 

"I wanna' hug you," Goku told her simply, "But I'll wait. I think I'll write it down every time I want to hug you. And then," his grin widened, "When you feel okay with it again, I'll get to hug you for every time I wanted to!" 

"I'd like that," she smiled. "I think I'll do the same." 

****** 

A/N: Did I just write WAFF? Good heavens . . . *hides under a pillow* . . . my poor reputation! 


End file.
